Second Chances
by Echo-AU
Summary: She was once lost; she was once loved. Can Regina make the right choices when given the opportunity for a second chance? Set after the breaking of the curse - not compatible with season 2.
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: As always, many thanks to Jo for making sure my writing is decent enough to see the light of day :)**

***This story has been resurrected and I'm only just continuing on with it now - I will update regularly between this and 'Home' :)**

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Emma's head was pounding. It felt, possibly, more unbearable than the worst hangover she'd ever experienced – at least tenfold in its ferocity. She groaned as she moved to sit up, fighting the nausea and dizziness that threatened to take her under the crashing waves of unconsciousness.

Opening her eyes did surprisingly little in this kind of darkness and she struggled to remember what had happened.

_She'd made a wish and blown out a candle and suddenly there was a boy at her door claiming to be her son. There was the drive to Maine, to a sleepy town, and she'd dropped the kid off at his home._

Emma squeezed her eyes shut as she held her stomach. Something was rebelling inside her and she could feel the bile rising through to her throat. Swallowing hard she managed to fight down the sick that was threatening to spill, but was unable to stop the solitary tear from slipping down her cheek.

_He'd turned out to be the Mayor's kid and this had turned in to a fairly awkward moment. Biological mother meets adoptive mother. She'd followed the Mayor in to the house, had accepted her drink and…_

Emma struggled to remember what had happened next. She'd had the drink, she was sure of it. She remembered being in a small study, remembered the Mayor giving her the drink, even remembered having some of the apple cider as they discussed Henry. After that it was just a blank.

She opened her eyes once more and found the dark wasn't quite as penetrating as she had first thought. Either that or her eyes were finally cooperating a little more with her. She fancied she was in a cellar of some kind, but as she made a move to stand up the pounding in her head increased and the waves of nausea and dizziness that had been threatening to overwhelm her came crashing down, dragging her under into blissful unconsciousness.

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The second time Emma opened her eyes and took stock of her surroundings she noted that the sea of nausea was kept at bay, the pounding in her head had receded somewhat and she didn't feel as though she might be dragged back under the current at any given time. Gingerly she propped herself up on to her elbows and waited, waited to see if unconsciousness would claim her for a third time, but as the seconds ticked by with little threat of being dragged under she tested her luck again as she moved to sit.

The world began to swim in a sickening manner and she held to the cold ground in an attempt to not fall off. _Hold it together, Em, hold it together_ she thought, and defying all odds, the room stopped swaying. Without standing she turned herself slowly around, the cold, dry floor offering her the illusion of support for she was unsure if it would start to sway again at any moment and throw her back in to the torrents. The lit torch she saw on the opposite wall threw sparse, flickering light – just enough light for Emma to see the contents of her stomach as she emptied it on the floor; just enough light to cast dancing shadows as the darkness encroached on the edges of her vision; just enough light for her to see the steel bars between her and the opposite wall.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: As always, many thanks to Jo for making sure my writing is decent enough to see the light of day :)**

**Sorry for the delay - I would have had it out with the Intro, but wanted to make sure I didn't fail somewhere in the continuity since I'm only picking this story up again after staring at it for 4 months :)**

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Emma awoke to the sound of voices far away, their owners nowhere in sight. The pounding in her head had been reduced to a dull ache and gravity seemed to be behaving itself, not shifting every few seconds in an attempt to throw her sideways. Carefully she stood up, not wanting to test this new found truce with gravity by making any sudden movements. She'd seen enough movies to equate her current living quarters with that of a dungeon cell, the hope that it had all been a dream dashed the moment her eyes had opened. She made a cursory examination of the room she found herself in – a wooden cot against the wall, a pot in the opposite corner, no light but for the single torch burning on the opposite wall and not a guard in sight.

What did seem out of place was the cup just outside her cell, less than a foot from the bars. A simple wooden cup with just the faintest flicker of light rebounding from the surface of the liquid it contained. She was almost certain it had not been there when previously she had looked and could only assume someone had come by whilst she was unconscious. Cautiously she reached through the bars and picked it up, sniffing at the fluid therein. _No discernable smell_ she told herself mentally. A sip of it brought her to the conclusion it was merely water _and let's face it_ she thought, _if whoever took me wanted me dead, I would be_ _by now_. Thirstily she drank the water, savouring every mouthful as if it might be her last when she heard the door at the far end of the hall swing open on creaking hinges.

The heavy thud of footsteps was unmistakeably coming in her direction and she stiffened at the approach, one hand steadying herself against the bars. Beyond all evidence to the contrary, she was still hoping she would wake up and find this all a dream. She lifted her eyes and peered up the hall to the person walking in her direction. The man she saw dimly by the light was bulging at the seams of his leather, an ugly, squat man with a heavy set face and meaty arms.

"Oh aren't you just a beauty, your grace," he said, spitting out the final words as if they were acid on his tongue. Leering towards her he brushed his hand over her fingers, "We're going to have some fun with you."

Emma pulled her hand away as quickly as if she'd been burned, hatred flaring in her eyes. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded, thrusting her chin out, her usual defiance resurfacing briefly as her pulse accelerated. The reeking ale on this man's breath was enough to cause her to gag and she fought to keep the bile down.

The guard laughed and turned back down the passageway to yell, "Oi, Jonathon, let Her Majesty know the bitch is awake." He made a final leer in Emma's direction, raking his eyes over her body in such a way that sent cold shivers down her spine. "I hope you have better manners in the presence of the Queen," he remarked before sauntering off, leaving Emma alone and confused once more.

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Time passed slowly for Emma as she sat on her small cot, leaning up against a cold, stone wall; she had no way to measure how long she stared at the flickering torch, lost in her own thoughts. She'd been trying without success to piece together what had happened from her fragmented memories, but nothing was making any sense, least of all what she was doing in a dungeon and why on earth there'd be a dungeon in Maine. She wondered if perhaps she'd become blind drunk and insulted the wrong person - it would, after all, explain the raging hangover she had been feeling since regaining consciousness. If she were honest with herself, however, she could feel in her bones that this was certainly not the case; she never allowed herself to lose that much control over her own actions, never had and never would. She felt herself clenching her jaw, finally releasing it as the muscles began to tense and ache. It was when she heard a sound at the end of the hall that she was finally roused from her memories and brought back to the present, to her current predicament.

Emma would later look back at this moment, the moment when the Mayor of Storybrooke, the adoptive mother of her child, and possibly one of the sexiest women she had ever laid her eyes on, came in to view in front of her cell. Donned in supple black leather pants, black stilletos, a black overcoat that hung to mid-thigh, deep red corset that pushed all the right assets to all the right places and hair pulled severely back from her face, the Mayor looked exactly how Emma would have pictured a dominatrix. For the briefest of moments the idea that the Mayor was, in fact, a dominatrix flitted through her mind, and that this dungeon was actually some kind of elaborate playroom - but it was soon discarded as the reality of her situation bore down heavily upon her. This woman looked, for all the world, to be the epitome of a person so very used to getting her own way; and so it was at this moment that her life ceased to make any sense, when her world most assuredly tipped upside down and cared not whether she hung on for dear life or fell off the edge into insanity. Her breath caught involuntarily, forcing her to steady herself against the wall, the cold stone beneath her palm anchoring her briefly back in to this reality.

"Madame Mayor?" she asked in a small voice.

"Why Miss Swan," the Queen started, the sneer on her face bleeding through in to her voice "how nice of you to join the land of the conscious."

Emma shook her head, trying to clear the fog, trying to harness one logical memory. "Madame Mayor, what's going on? I don't understand…" she looked around her cell, gesturing to the walls in an effort to convey her confusion.

Regina moved with snake like grace to the bars, almost hissing as she answered. "You tried to take my son!" The anger radiating from her was palpable.

"I brought him back!"

The Queen's eyes glazed over slightly as she recalled Henry lying on the hospital bed, the life gone from his body. _And this woman_ she spat internally_ was the one to bring him back. I'm his mother!_ She cringed slightly at the memory. "It changes nothing." She turned on her heel to leave.

"I was leaving," Emma tried one last approach, one last ditch effort to connect with this woman, to move this woman to sympathy and gain release, "please, just let me go."

"You should never have stayed, Miss Swan," the Queen said with finality as she walked back along the hallway to the door.

Emma sunk to the floor as she took a last look at the Mayor's retreating form. "But I never stayed," she said to herself, barely audible, and with her shoulders hunched and head in her hands she missed the slight falter of footsteps from Regina and the quizzical look she passed over her shoulder back at Emma before the hall door was closed behind her.

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Regina had never been one to admit there were things she didn't understand. Of course, there were plenty of things that baffled her on a daily basis, but it would be a cold day in hell for her to ever admit to being anything less than omniscient. None of that changed the fact that right now the Emma Swan that currently resided in her dungeon baffled her.

She'd expected to see Emma spitting nails, cursing furiously and demanding to be let out. She'd expected to have a rain of verbal abuse poured upon her or threats of what she'd do when she escaped. Honestly, she'd expected a lot more questions about Henry. She contemplated all the things she'd expected to see from Emma as she closed her bedroom door behind her, pacing the length of her room like a caged panther. Something wasn't right. Where was the woman who stood up to her and challenged her, pushed all the wrong buttons and was more obnoxious and irritating than she ever thought it was possible for one woman to be. She balled her fists as she stared at herself in the wall mounted mirror, her traitorous mind forcing her to relive memories long past.

_The awkwardness of that first official meeting she'd had with Emma at Granny's when discussing Henry. Of course, she'd known that Henry had been having visits with Emma before and after school and it was becoming painfully obvious that this Swan woman wasn't going to be leaving town any time soon. The only hope she'd had of keeping Henry on side was to come to some sort of arrangement where their visits were out in the open, and not sneaking around behind her back. She could maintain some measure of control if she knew the when and the where of such arrangements._

_The shock she'd felt the first time Emma had arrived for dinner, for Henry had persuaded Emma the invitation had been extended from Regina herself. Of course she acquiesced in order to please Henry and knew she had made the right choice when Henry's face lit up with joy; but she was still sure to lecture him afterwards about lying to either herself or Miss Swan in the future. She'd found herself surprised some time later when she realized dinner with both Henry and Emma had fallen in to some kind of routine and that the simple domesticity of it was as soothing as it was welcome._

She held back the stinging of her eyes as she silently pleaded with her mind to stop, to stop the torment, to not take her down that painful road yet another time. But her mind wanted to torture her, like picking at a scab so a wound could never quite heal and it hurled her back down in to her past with unrelenting force.

_A quick handshake had turned in to a quick hug which in turn had become a quick kiss on the cheek on the days she'd pick Henry up from Emma at Mary Margaret's apartment. She knew deep down she would never forget the day when Emma had turned to say something as Regina had leaned in to kiss her cheek goodbye. Their lips had met, so briefly, though it felt as if time had stood still. They'd pulled apart quickly enough, of course, but her feeling of wonder, her sense of 'rightness' and of possibilities to be explored was mirrored on Emma's face. She had wanted to lean in, to brush her hand against the blonde woman's cheek and kiss her again, but Henry's calls from the hallway had broken any spell that might have been cast upon them in that moment._

She saw herself in the mirror and her own hatred bubbled up. She lashed out, striking at the glass and was rewarded with the sting of pain as her crimson life bled slowly out against the olive skin of her left hand, shards of glass shattering to the ground. _Seven years bad luck_ she thought, _I guess that's fitting_. The smallest amount of magic had healed the cut and her traitorous mind had reeled itself back in, no more memory lane tonight.

"Guard!" she yelled, and was rewarded with a guard opening her bedroom chamber door in short order. "See to it the prisoner gets food tonight," she said, and almost as an afterthought added, "a blanket as well."

The guard nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty," he said before pulling the chamber door closed behind him.

Regina sighed; it was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: As always, many thanks to Jo for making sure my writing is decent enough to see the light of day :)**

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To say Emma was surprised when a guard placed a tray just outside the bars, a tray that contained a small, wooden plate with bread and another cup of water would have been an understatement. She was even more shocked when she noticed he'd also left a folded blanket out beside the tray. In fact it was only diminished by the knowledge it had been the same guard as previously, and the way his eyes grazed her body left her feeling sick to the stomach after he'd left.

After she'd eaten and finished the last of her water she pulled the blanket around her shoulders and curled up on the cot against the wall. She had to admit this wasn't exactly where she'd expected her life to have taken her, a dungeon somewhere in Maine. Of all the possible scenarios she'd envisioned for her future, she could say with some certainty that this wasn't one of them. But on the other side of that same coin, she couldn't say definitively that she wouldn't have wound up trapped somewhere – her life wasn't stellar in any way, and the only good thing she'd ever done was give her new born baby a better chance in life. _Sad way to sum up my life really,_ she thought, _the only truly unselfish thing I've ever done was ten years ago_. Of course, looking at her current situation she had to question if her son was in appropriate care after all. _That will be a question for another day_, she thought as she took yet another look around her cell.

She leant back against the wall, bringing her knees up under her chin and hugging her legs close to her body. _Well, Em, this is an unmitigated disaster._ If she'd been a lesser person, she'd have been crying herself to sleep by now – but decades of solitude or abandonment had taught her that no one would ever be there to catch her tears, so shedding them would be a pointless endeavour. That knowledge, however, didn't stop a solitary tear from trailing its way down her left cheek. Studiously she brushed it away before she would have to otherwise acknowledge its existence and the feelings behind it.

_Run when you can; Fight when you must._ Emma looked around her cell. A closer inspection after the Mayor's visit earlier had showed her that neither of her usual choices were even remotely cards on the table to be played. She wasn't even sure they were in the deck of cards she currently had at her disposal. The bars were solid steel, the walls were solid rock and Emma Swan had resigned herself to staying exactly here until a better opportunity for fight or flight presented itself.

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Regina paced. Her spies had reported movement in the kingdom – undoubtedly Snow White and James would be re-establishing their reign and would, when possible, assemble their forces to move on her as soon as they could pinpoint her location. The illusion shields she'd established around the castle would only hold for so long – if she were lucky she might be able to last until summer before they were able to dismantle the magic of her illusions, if not she may not last the winter. She hated to gamble her future on fate like this and the loss of control over certainty had made her more irritable and bad tempered than usual.

She was certain if her chamber floor had not been made of solid stone she'd have worn a track in the flooring by now with all her pacing. She was glad that since returning to Fairytale Land that the Genie had not been encapsulated in the mirrors once more. He was somewhere _out there_ and thankfully far away from the castle, leaving her in blissful solitude as she stalked around her bedroom chamber.

She hadn't been too surprised that after the curse had been broken she was once again the most despised woman in the realm. She had, however, been slightly surprised that Rumpelstiltskin's efforts to bring magic to Earth had only been rewarded with the town's people being plunged through a portal in to another time, another place. _Magic never really had worked properly on Earth_ she'd remarked to herself as the portal opened in the middle of her town, slowly sucking everyone through; although oddly enough to her own eyes, inanimate objects were left unharmed. She had resigned herself to going through the portal and had not fought it tooth and nail as others had, clinging desperately - yet futilely - to street signs and park benches.

Passing through the portal had left her feeling a little shaken, as it appeared to have left many of the other Storybrooke residents who happened to land within sight of her. Her eyes had immediately sought out Henry, only to see him being ushered away by Snow White, whose own retreating form was being covered by those who had once been loyal to Snow and James. Her first instinct had been to rain unholy hell over all who stood between her and her son, but as she lifted her hand to become the deliverer of such vengeance Rumpelstiltskin had appeared, his hand snaking around her throat before she had time to react.

"_You!" she'd spat as she tore her gaze from her departing son, "you did this!"_

"_Did you really think you could defeat me, dearie?" he'd taunted her. "You're weak, so weak I could snap your neck," he'd said, squeezing just a little tighter to emphasise his point._

_Her response had sounded more like a plea to her ears, a prayer to a higher power, "But, my son." She threw a last, lingering glance in the direction Henry had been taken, unable to wipe the pain from her face._

"_All due respect, Your Majesty," he'd said, his voice mocking the honorific he'd used, "he's not your son."_

_Regina's heart had faltered at this, this one admission she'd known since the day Henry was placed in her arms. He was not her son and now, in this realm, he never would be. The knowledge didn't stop her fragile heart from breaking just a little bit more at the love of a son she would never feel again._

"_Oh I'm sure he'll be gone for a very long time," Rumpelstiltskin had continued, sneering, "especially if dear old Snow has any say in it. He is her grandson after all." He'd released her throat, taking half a step back as he looked her over disapprovingly. "You should know best, Your Majesty," he'd said, his voice dripping with venom, "all magic comes with a price - and your account just fell due."_

_She'd watched as a click of his fingers had transported him farther away, staying only long enough to gather a brunette in his arms before another click had taken him from her sight altogether. The realization that Rumpelstiltskin had Belle and that he would know she had kept her prisoner paled in comparison to the loss of her son._

_Henry had been taken; and while she knew without a shadow of doubt that he would be well looked after physically, she was just as certain that the love he still held in reserve for her would be poisoned out of him by his newfound grandparents. With their memories returned, and that of all the townsfolk, she was undoubtedly sure they would fill him in on all her terrible deeds, deeds for which she could claim no mitigating circumstances. Her eyes glassed with suppressed tears and she felt as if her own heart had been torn out for a second time in less than 24 hours._

_The town's folk, who had been milling about in some confusion, had begun to notice that she was standing there alone – and while she was certain none would confront her individually for fear of her magic, she couldn't be wholly convinced they wouldn't try something collectively all the same._

_As she'd turned to leave a streak of red in the underbrush caught her eye and she couldn't help but wonder, she had to know for sure. Closer inspection had revealed a deeply unconscious Emma Swan in her red leather jacket. The sound of footsteps running in her direction had caused her to look back, recognizing the six men running towards her as those who had shielded Snow as she'd led Henry away. Undoubtedly these men were here for Emma, anything she intended to do would have to be done quickly. Without hesitation she'd grabbed Emma's hand teleporting the pair of them back to her castle where she'd placed Emma in to the dungeons._

_Before the day had ended, half her palace staff, knights and guards included, had returned to her castle. The others, she'd assumed, were either lost or deserters and she was in no mood to find out which. She'd cloaked the castle in an illusion that night, hiding it from any friend or foe that had not been within the grounds prior to its cast. The spell would be broken, she knew, but not too soon, not tonight. After sending the guards away she'd sat outside Emma's cell, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, ensuring she was safe until the early hours of the morning._

And so Regina paced. She'd admitted to herself that taking Emma perhaps hadn't been the best move if her end goal was to have Henry back for good and not have him run away at the first available opportunity if he assumed she had slipped back to her evil queen ways. She'd tried to rationalize it as an act of retribution since Snow and James had her son and she had their daughter, but that had sounded hollow even to her own ears. The truth that she was loathe to admit even to herself was that she was afraid, afraid that without Emma she truly would revert back to being the Evil Queen; afraid that she had her chance at a happy ending and had ruined it so thoroughly that there would be no coming back; afraid that Emma would look at her like she had done previously and she would see nothing but hatred reflected in those eyes. Truly she was afraid now that if Emma had the chance, she would leave her all over again and that was a horror Regina was not prepared to face.

Regina laughed a self deprecating laugh. _If ever Emma needed another reason to leave, surely locking her in a dungeon would rank high on that list._ But that woman downstairs was not the Emma Swan she'd been expecting, something was deeply wrong and there was only one thing Regina could think to do.

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Emma sat bolt upright on her cot, the feeling of being watched only confirmed when she opened her eyes to see the Mayor standing quietly outside her cell. She stood up quickly, running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to untangle it as she fought the urge to stretch out her back, still cramping from having spent the night on such a hard surface. The fleeting look of pain that crossed her face was not lost on her counter-part.

"Rough night, Miss Swan?" the Mayor asked, not too unkindly.

Emma shrugged; surely this woman wasn't here for idle conversation. "I've slept on worse," she replied.

"I imagine that would be true."

The silence crept upon the pair slowly and Emma began to feel nervous under the older woman's intense gaze. The uncomfortable silence grew from seconds to minutes as Emma started to fidget with the hem of her leather jacket and divert her eyes to anywhere other than this brunette's face; but her eyes were dragged back as she heard a small laugh come from the Mayor.

"Nervous habit, Miss Swan?"

Emma released a deep sigh of resignation. Pushing down her nervousness and unease she walked up to the bars, her face inches from the cold steel. Madame Mayor," she began, "why am I here?"

"Answer me one question," the Queen replied, her voice dropping an octave. "Tell me: What is the last thing you remember?"

Emma blinked. _Was this a trick question?_ she wondered. Aloud she answered the woman truthfully. "I dropped Henry at your house, your husband went upstairs to check on him and you invited me in for a drink. It all gets a little hazy after that, a side effect of the drugs you undoubtedly added." She glared at the woman opposite her, openly challenging her to refute that which she'd just accused her.

Whatever Emma had been expecting to see, the momentary look of hurt that crossed the Mayor's face was certainly not it. Involuntarily Emma took a step backwards.

Regina leaned in towards the bars. "Honestly, is that really the last thing you remember?" Her voice so quiet Emma had to strain to hear.

"What earthly reason would I have to lie?"

The Mayor raised her brow quizzically as she moved back from the bars.

"Ok, fine, this does seem a situation where one would lie, but," she looked up, her eyes holding the deep, honey-brown orbs of the woman standing on the other side of the bars, trying to convey her sincerity, "I'm not lying to you."

Emma watched as the Mayor nodded and began to walk away, only to stop after a few paces and turn her attention back. It seemed as if the question was an afterthought from the Mayor:

"You don't remember me, then?"

The question seemed to be searching, trying to find something to anchor to and Emma, frankly, was stumped.

"No, like I said, I just met you and your husband, I had a drink and now I'm here." Emma walked up to the end of her cell so she could once again face the woman who kept her here. She caught the Mayor's eye and held it in determination. "What the hell is going on?" Emma's brow furrowed, "and where's Henry?"

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Regina had a difficult time trying to keep the shock from registering in her voice at this unexpected turn of events. Her face became unreadable, an ability she had had plenty of practice with over the years, as she gave her answer. The question that now lay with her was whether or not to tell Emma the truth. In the briefest of moments she weighed her options, to not tell Emma would be to lose her for good, yet on the other hand to tell Emma everything might also result in the same outcome. She sighed internally as she considered the problem, eventually deciding a semblance of truth was the best course of action.

"Miss Swan, this is going to be difficult for you to hear and even harder for you to believe," she began and with a click of her fingers she'd summoned a chair to sit on. "You may as well sit down as well," she said, motioning to the cot behind Emma.

The audible gasp from Emma as she'd brought the wooden chair in to existence was not lost on Regina.

"How did you..?" Emma began, but was silenced as Regina raised her hand.

"In this realm, magic is as natural as breathing; but Miss Swan, this story isn't about magic. You wanted to know about Henry and the truth is, he's been taken." _Well,_ Regina thought, _it's technically true_.

"Then what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out looking?" Emma leaped back off the cot from where she'd only just sat down.

Regina noticed Emma was about to get in to one of her long winded rants and once again silenced her with a raised hand. As beautiful as she was when she was pacing and ranting, this was not the time and most certainly not the place. "Let me finish," she said, "there is much that you should know."

Thankfully Emma acquiesced and sat back down on the cot, arms folded across her chest.

Now that she had Emma's undivided attention she was unsure how to proceed. She sighed to herself and decided to stick as closely to the truth as she could and skirt around the less desirable pieces.

"Henry is safe, but he's been taken by some people who want to hurt me. Where we are in this realm they rule one of the kingdoms and seek to claim mine under their domain." _Technically true_ she thought.

"You're a queen?" Emma asked, shocked.

"Yes, but again, not the point of the story, Miss Swan. The point is," _I'm lost without you, _"that this king and queen are misguided and seek to destroy, rather than unite, our kingdoms." _Another technical truth_ she thought.

Emma pulled back slightly, her eyebrows pulling together in puzzlement. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Quite a bit. First and foremost," _because my life is incomplete without you in it_ "because you are their daughter."

Emma laughed a loud, cynical laugh. "There's something you should know, Your Majesty," she said, sarcasm dripping from the honorific she had used, "I've been through the system. Every kid wishes their parents were kings and queens and they were a lost little prince or princess. Lady, they're just fairy tales."

_Well, that's more like the old Emma at least._ "What earthly reason would I have to lie?" Regina replied, using the same words Emma had said to her not five minutes earlier. "The point is," _I love you, _"they have my son and now I have their daughter."

Emma nodded, clenching her jaw. "So, what are you going to do to me?"

"Emma," she started before she could stop herself. _Dammit Regina, get a hold of yourself_. She continued as if she hadn't made the slip, "you are safe. I promise you, no harm shall come to you inside these walls." She stood up, intent on leaving before any of the other things she so desperately wanted to say could spill. "Think on it, I'm sure you have questions and I shall do my best to answer. For now I have some duties to attend, but I will return in time." Regina's hand lightly touched the bars as she left, leaving an almost imperceptibly small trace amount of magic behind from the contact. "Oh and Miss Swan? That man you remember being at my house, he wasn't my husband, he was the local sheriff."

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Emma watched the conjured chair disappear as the heavy wooden door closed behind the Mayor. _Mayor, not Queen, Mayor_ she told herself forcefully. She paced her cell, her footsteps loud against the echoing silence the Mayor's departure had left in its wake. She fell in to a rhythm, easily able to walk without conscious thought as her feet drifted one step in front of the other; her mind was running on information overload. Emma wrung her hands, trying to rid herself of her nervous tension before running fingers through tangled hair. She exhaled deeply through pursed lips as she tried to take stock of her situation once more.

Still muttering quietly to herself as she paced, she heard the door at the end of the hall open once again. _Surely the Mayor's duties couldn't be over already, _she thought, _I'm sure it hasn't even been half an hour since she was here._ Her pacing halted as she listened intently, soon recognizing the heavy footsteps of the guard; she found she was unsurprised when he laid a tray of food and drink down just outside her cell.

"Face the back wall, princess," he said, "palms to the stone."

Emma looked at him quizzically, not moving from her place on the cot. This, however, was new.

"Look, love, get your ass to the back of the cell and get your hands up on the wall. Her Majesty's taken a shine to you so you should be grateful for what you get."

She could attempt to run, attempt to break free of this prison she found herself in - it was the most logical course of action; but she couldn't help the feeling of deep seated curiosity and she knew she wanted to speak with the Mayor again, if only to obtain more information on Henry. Resigned to her fate, Emma shrugged to herself and moved to the back wall, placing her palms against it with her back to the cell door. Within seconds she heard the key turn in the lock and a voice from down the hall call out.

"Oi Jonathon, ready?"

"Yeah, come on down." She heard from the guard at her door.

Emma looked over her shoulder as she saw the heavy set guard walk in to her cell, an involuntary shudder running down her spine. What surprised her most was the fact he was carrying a mattress the same size as the cot which he threw down with no small amount of anger.

She cringed and faced back towards the wall as he sauntered over to her, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. "Can only imagine what Her Majesty sees in you," he leered as one of his meaty hands cupped her ass.

"Hey! We're not here for that." She heard the guard outside say. "Get outta there before you get something cut off you might want in the future."

"Next time, princess," the fat guard whispered to her, his breath still reeking of ale.

Emma was only able to breathe easily again when she heard the lock catch and the footsteps move away from her cell. She put the mattress up on the cot and wrapped herself up in the blanket as she silently ate her food and drink. The Mayor was certainly an enigma but she knew she would sleep easier this night.

* * *

o

* * *

_Regina had been pushed forcibly against the wall, the cool against her back a stark contrast to the heat emanating from her body. Idly she'd wondered when her blouse had gone missing, but that train of thought had quickly dissolved when the blonde's lips descended on her own once again, capturing her, claiming her. She'd struggled a little, a cursory action in their game, and had been rewarded with Emma pinning her harder against the wall with her body, her lips and tongue dancing over the tanned olive skin of Regina's neck, teeth grazing gently against her pulse point._

"_Your skin tastes like apples," she'd heard Emma purr against her, unable to contain the momentary shiver that ran through her body, unwilling to even if she could._

A soft moan escaped the brunette's lips as she lay sleeping.

_She'd felt goosebumps rise on her skin as Emma's fingers played a light trail against her stomach and over her ribs, pushing up underneath her bra to greedily squeeze at her breast, pinching her nipple between thumb and finger. Regina had groaned as the pinch had shot straight to her core, her eyes fluttering closed._

_Seconds later the bra itself had been divested and she was unsure whether it would ever be wearable again, or like many of her under garments these days, it would be destined for the trash bin after having been ripped from her body._

_Her eyes flicked open and momentarily she felt panic rise. No longer was she in her room in Storybrooke, but in her castle chambers in Fairytale Land. The warm colours of her bedroom supplanted with the cold, dead furnishings of her castle. Her breath hitched in her throat._

Regina whimpered, tossing her head against the pillow as she slept.

_In the same instant it was gone as Emma's mouth latched on to her breast, the warmth of her mouth and tongue enveloping her senses. She allowed her arms to wrap around the blonde, her hands on her ass as she pulled her in tightly, wanting more. The moan from the blonde around her nipple sent another wave of pleasure through her and she thought she might come from this alone._

_Emma moved her head to pay attention to the other beautiful breast as she worked her hand up Regina's leg, pushing her skirt up as she went. She'd glanced quickly up to the older woman as her fingers had come in contact with soft, wet curls instead of the panties she had been expecting. Regina had only shrugged by way of explanation, a small smile playing on her lips._

_She'd had no time to register anything as the blonde had slipped two fingers easily in to her, simultaneously grabbing one of Regina's legs and wrapping it around her hip for better leverage. She'd held on tightly to the blonde in front of her, the delicious feeling of slender fingers sliding in and out of her slick folds was leaving her weak, and she was thankful for the wall behind her._

"_Gods, Emma," she'd been able to murmur; a groan forced its way from her mouth as Emma had added a third finger and her thumb began circling her clit. Regina knew it was only a matter of time and a very short amount of time at that._

_She'd glanced to the mirror at their side and once again her breath hitched in her throat. She could plainly see Emma buried three fingers deep inside her, blonde hair cascading down over red jacket and her own leg wrapped around the waist of this woman. Her pupils were dilated with arousal and her body was trembling with desire. If it wasn't for the fact the mirror was showing this scene in her castle chambers she might have come right then from watching Emma work her body like a finely tuned instrument._

No.

_She looked back to Emma and the bedroom shimmered to the castle, then back to the bedroom, but all conscious thought was lost as Emma bit down on Regina's nipple, her fingers working hard as her thumb rubbed over her clit. Regina's world collapsed as the first waves of her orgasm pulsed over her, Emma's fingers never slowing as she continued to ride out the feeling. She'd been sure she had left bruising on Emma's back from holding her so tightly as the waves began to subside._

_She hadn't meant to say it, never meant to say it, but those three small words tumbled from her lips like the first splash of summer rain against the sidewalk. She had said it so softly the gods themselves had to lean in to hear her spill those words; so quietly even she could not be sure they were said in anything louder than a thought._

_But the look in Emma's eyes betrayed the fact she had spoken the words, had breathed life in to their meaning. Her hand had been quickly withdrawn and she'd backed away from Regina; the sudden cold and sudden loss had cut deeply in to Regina, flaying her as nothing else could._

No. It didn't happen like this.

_She'd looked at Emma standing so close, yet so far away, the cold, lifeless stone beneath her feet and back matching the blonde's expression. She had no time to wonder where her bedroom had gone._

"_You love me?" Emma had asked, a sneer playing on her lips. "You. Love. Me?" she'd said again, emphasising each word with more derision as she continued._

_Regina suddenly felt the vulnerability of her position acutely, exposed as she was against the wall. Her hands worked without thought pushing her skirt down; she looked helplessly around the room for a blouse, a shirt, anything to cover her and provide her the semblance of protection from the glare of this woman before her. To her dismay there was nothing._

She tossed under the covers, her eyes open and moving frantically, but seeing only what her subconscious was throwing in front of her, unable to drag herself from the depths of this nightmare.

"_Let's pretend for just one minute that love isn't the sickening weakness that is," the blonde began, venom lacing every word. "Why would I love you? You are incapable of love, you are incapable of feeling. You are a hollow, empty shell Regina Mills and you deserve no happy ending."_

_Regina found her voice, shaky and uncertain as it was. "You're not Emma," she'd whispered, "Emma would never be this cold."_

_She'd been caught by surprise when Emma had moved towards her with lightning speed, her left hand grabbing Regina by the throat, turning her head towards the mirror. "Oh Your Majesty, you are so right about that."_

_Regina almost cried as she saw herself holding Emma by throat in the reflection but her actions had ceased being her own. Bringing her eyes back to the woman in front of her, now having taken her spot against the wall, she saw only fear and betrayal in those beautiful green eyes._

"_I love you, Regina," Emma had said, her voice filled with emotion._

_Powerless to stop she heard herself answer, "No, you don't." And with that she'd plunged her hand through Emma, ripping her heart from her chest._

Regina screamed in pure anguish as she was finally able to wrench herself from her traitorous subconscious. She could still feel the warmth of Emma's blood on her hand, could smell the fear in the room, could still hear the betrayal in Emma's voice. Her body shook with repressed tears and her stomach turned violently, threatening to empty itself there and then. The look in Emma's eyes burned in to her mind's eye, the softness in her pleading voice rang in her ears. She found she could not contain her stomach, barely making it over the side of the bed before the previous night's dinner was loosed upon the cold, stone floor.

The door flew open as two guards ran in to the room.

"Your Majesty, are you…" they'd begun, but Regina threw a ball of magical force in their direction, knocking them back out of the room, slamming the door behind them and locking it.

She hugged her legs tightly to her, sobbing uncontrollably. The pain in her chest was so intense it felt like she might burst as each fresh set of tears cascaded down her face. She had no will to wipe them away, letting them splash against her legs; the ferocity of the dream still holding her in its grasp. Had any other person been in the room with her, to comfort her, they would have heard her barely audible whisper, a repeating mantra "I love you, Emma."

But no one was there.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: As always, many thanks to Jo for making sure my writing is decent enough to see the light of day :)**

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o

* * *

"James, she has our daughter!" Snow said, her voice emphasising each word individually, her eyes hard and determined. The argument was the same every day; she felt as if she were in her own private hell, destined to relive this one facet of her life over and over.

"Snow, calm down, you're not thinking clearly."

"Clearly?" Snow yelled, exasperated, "I'll give you clearly!" she said, picking up the nearest vase and throwing at her beleaguered husband.

James watched as the porcelain missile sailed past him, missing by a fair margin and breaking harmlessly against the wall before falling to the floor in a dejected pile. A sigh escaped his lips; it had been an antique. He looked at his wife and commiserated, she had gone between frightened and angry since arriving back in Fairytale Land and sometimes, when he least expected it, she intertwined the two, just to spice things up. He couldn't blame her, she was thinking as a mother who wanted to protect her daughter, but each day caused her panic to notch up just that little bit more.

"Snow, honey, please listen," he said, approaching her cautiously as if she were a wild animal. When no more projectiles came flying his way he decided it was safe to continue for the time being. "Regina loves Emma, you know that, you were the one who told me," he said, taking a deep breath.

Snow balled her hands in to fists at her side, her anger fuming inside her, raging to be released. "That was before," she'd hissed out through clenched teeth.

James rested his arms on Snow's shoulders, looking deeply in to her eyes, wanting to soothe the hurt. "You saw how devastated Regina was when Emma left her, she was beside herself. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that Emma will be safe until we can bring her home."

"James," she said, her anger dissipating like the morning fog, "I don't want to lose her again, not after we just found her."

"We won't, honey, we'll bring her back," was his only reply as he held his wife in a tight embrace.

James allowed himself these few moments, with his wife in his arms, to think back on the past few days. Those loyal to himself and Snow White had begun to arrive not long after returning to Fairytale Land; and even now, although the initial rush had died down, each new day brought in more loyalists. Sadly, however, there were those who also wanted to see Regina's head mounted on a pike and had sought out himself and Snow as a means to see their retribution come to fruition, knowing alone they stood no chance against the Evil Queen. It was this blind hatred and desire for revenge that had torn apart their realm once before and he wasn't eager to see it happen again.

He gently rubbed his hands against Snow's back and kissed the top of her head, knowing no words would suffice, only hoping that his presence would be enough reassurance for the woman he loved most in all the realms.

The peaceful moment was broken as he heard the door to the room creak open and was unsurprised when he saw Henry walking up to them.

"Hey kiddo," he said by way of greeting as he let go of Snow.

"Hey James, Snow," he answered, giving each a big smile.

James grinned at Henry, he was an alright kid. Regardless of all the evil things that could be attributed to Regina, she'd done pretty well in raising their grandson. That whole term still seemed so surreal to him, their two worlds still vying for prominence in the forefront of his mind. He was slowly getting used to both lives competing for attention.

It had been awkward the first few days as Henry had been unsure what to call either of them. Their Storybrooke names had been ruled out almost instantly as neither wished a reminder of the curse that had taken their daughter from them for 28 years, taken most of the childhood from their grandson and the happy endings of everyone in the realm.

Additionally they had both felt they were a little too young for the traditional 'Grandma/Grandpa' titles. So the least awkward thing they could think of was to have their grandson call them by their Fairytale Land name. It had been odd at first, but it was becoming more natural as time went on.

"Heard anything from Emma yet?" Henry asked.

"Not yet kiddo. I'm sure we will soon, so keep your chin up, ok?" James replied.

Henry shrugged a little and sat down on the bed nearby, eyes wandering around the room looking at nothing in particular.

James gave Snow White a glance and with the smallest of indications let her take lead in this conversation.

"Hey Henry," Snow White said, smiling at the small boy - _no, _she corrected herself, _young man_ - sitting on the bed in front of her. "Are you worried about Emma?"

Henry shook his head as he scratched at his arm – a nervous habit he'd picked up and had never really shaken. "Mom won't hurt Emma. She loves her."

Snow looked back at James in time to lip read his comment 'Out of the mouths of babes'. She scowled slightly before redirecting her attention back to Henry, kneeling down so she was no longer towering over him as he sat.

"So what is it Henry? Something seems to be up?"

"I dunno," he said, suddenly finding it hard to articulate his words. He sighed a little and tried to press on. "It's like none of this feels real. Everything shimmered when we arrived and," he struggled to find the words, "and I guess it just doesn't seem like what I was expecting," he finished lamely.

"That's just the magic, everything feels a little off centre. None of us are really used to it anymore."

"No." Henry was suddenly defiant. "It's more than that, can't you feel it?" He looked furtively between James and Snow, but neither seemed to be taking him at his word. He was beginning to tire of adults not taking him seriously. The last time an adult didn't take him seriously he wound up dead. _And that,_ he thought, _is the last time I'm doing anything that drastic to prove a point._

He sighed and shook his head as he jumped off the bed. "I'm gonna go out to the stables. I'll see you guys at dinner." He turned to leave.

"Make sure the stable master is there, Henry," James said to Henry's retreating form. He saw Henry nod, but heard no audible reply before the door was shut behind him.

James grinned at his wife. "Kids, eh," was all he managed to say before he gathered his wife up for another warm embrace.

* * *

o

* * *

"No, look, you don't understand," he said firmly, not looking to brook any more of an argument.

"Oh no, I think I understand perfectly. This is about me, you can't possibly tell me I don't understand," she sighed, they'd been through this argument every day since they'd arrived back in Fairytale Land. Every day when they should have been building their life together, moving forward to their future and her love was still consumed by the past.

"Belle, what she did to you, she shouldn't get away with that!" he said exasperated. He paced alongside an ornately carved dining table until he reached the end then, turning on his heel, he repeated the process back again. His mutterings were indistinguishable to the dark haired Beauty's ears.

"Sometimes we need to forgive, Rumpelstiltskin. She did this to me and I am choosing to forgive her. I don't want to harbour hatred now that I have you back, so stop making this all about you and what you lost." She sat down on the mahogany chair, resting her head in her hands as her shoulders slumped forward. She was tired of this argument, tired and worn out. What she wanted was to get on with her life with the man she loved, the man she was free to love but every time she tried to get close with him it seemed to set him off where all he wanted to do was exact his pound of flesh from the Queen and justify it as protecting her.

Though she would never admit it openly, a part of her wished they had never left Storybrooke, never left a land without magic. To return to this place left her feeling more cold and alone than in her padded cell beneath the hospital; at least then she didn't have the memory of the one man she truly loved.

She looked up as she heard Rumpelstiltskin sigh, watched as a range of emotions warred for dominance across his face - a face which had become more tinged with gold the longer they stayed, the longer they fought. She understood his desire to protect her, but to her it was claustrophobic, cloying at her when she least suspected it would do so.

Belle blinked away her suppressed tears as she turned her attention to the window, staring out to the hills beyond. Each night she asked the gods to allow her love's heart to heal, to turn away from hatred and vengeance; however each morning she woke to an empty bed. The first time she had awoken like that she had sought him out, sought to bring him back to her warmth, but when she had found him a few minutes later he had been in a deep trance, sparks of magic shooting subconsciously between his fingers, his hair almost glowing in its radiance. The only words she'd been able to discern were 'Regina' and 'Morpheus' - what the god of dreams had to do with the Queen was not an answer she was ready to discuss, not then - perhaps not ever. She had gone back to her room in those early hours of that morning and wept. Not once more since they had arrived did she venture down those stairs in the pre-dawn hours.

Belle turned her attention back to her beloved and offered him a soft, sad smile. She would endure much to have the man at her side, would forgive even more. In her most idle moments she wondered if the dark curse could be lifted from him, could be banished from this realm. She wondered if such a power existed that could remove the darkness from his tainted soul. She had found herself profoundly moved when he had brought forth a small, chipped cup and given it pride of place upon the mantel and she knew, beyond all reasonable doubt, that a good man lay beneath his golden exterior.

Relenting her position she stood up, reaching out to take his hand, holding it close to her heart. "I love you, Rumpelstiltskin," she whispered softly as she leaned up to kiss him.

Once again he averted her kiss and she bit back the tears that his rejection caused her. He was so afraid of losing his powers now that he had only just got them back, so afraid a kiss would unravel him and she ached for him, ached for the man he could be if only he would let himself.

* * *

o

* * *

Regina had made her way back to the dungeons and was once again seated opposite this unfathomably beautiful, blonde woman, the nightmare of the previous night fading in to lost memory. How she hated herself for keeping her here when she should be basking in the light; but she was so afraid that the moment her back was turned, Emma would run and leave her once again. That small, nagging doubt constantly in the back of her mind that maybe Emma really did remember everything; really did remember the near constant barrage of doubt she had hurled her way towards the end, all stemming from Regina's inability to believe herself capable of being loved. Little did she realize that she was creating the thing she feared most, and Regina would have done anything to keep Emma with her, so afraid was she of being alone.

_But maybe_, she thought, _just maybe now I have a second chance. Maybe I can love her the way she deserves to be loved_. She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat as her eyes glanced around the cell Emma was now residing in. Dipping her eyes briefly, she sighed in resignation. Fairytale Land never had been a place for her own happy endings.

_She'd moved across the bed until she was sitting behind Emma, her arms threading around the blonde's slender waist as she rested her head on her shoulder, watching as Emma put on her boots._

_"You could always stay," she'd murmured softly in to the blonde's ear._

"Hey, Earth to Regina."

She heard a click of fingers and she looked up to see Emma staring at her intently.

"Where did you go just now? You looked a million miles away," inquired Emma.

"Nowhere of any concern, Miss Swan," came the measured reply. She paused for a few beats before continuing. "I believe you had some questions for me?"

Emma nodded her head slowly. "I'd like to know more, about everything I guess. I'd like to understand." She sighed a little as she dropped her head forward, a tangled mess of blonde hair falling over her face.

_"Ugh, I can't get this knot out!" Emma had exclaimed, exasperated, as she threw her offending hairbrush back on to the dresser table._

_"Give me the brush."_

_"What?" There was a small hint of shock registering in the blonde's voice._

_"The brush. Hand it to me. I can see the knot clearly and I won't have you destroying my furniture and my possessions because you are incapable of adequately brushing your hair."_

_As a dumb-founded Emma handed the brush to her, Regina hid the smile that threatened to break free behind a facade of feigned indifference. She stopped herself from sighing in contentment just in time as she slipped her fingers through the soft blonde locks as she worked the knot out carefully._

_It hadn't taken long for the brush to pass through Emma's hair unhindered and Regina had leaned past Emma to replace it next to her own brush upon the dresser._

_"Thanks, Regina," Emma had said, fidgeting with her sleeve._

_"Don't expect it again, Miss Swan. I'm sure you can take care of your own personal hygiene in the future." She had been unable to keep the mild hint of teasing from her voice as she walked back to bed._

Regina wanted nothing more right now than to run her fingers through that messy blonde hair, catching herself staring just in time as Emma raised her head, eyes expectantly searching the Mayor's face. She straightened up and took a deep breath.

"As I told you yesterday, your parents are king and queen of a neighbouring kingdom. The queen, your mother, caused me great heartache when I was a much younger person. Inadvertently though it was, she caused the death of my fiancé. I spent a lot of time hating her for that, my need for vengeance further fuelling my hatred. I wanted to take from her what she took from me." She shook her head a little, clearing the thoughts of Daniel from her mind.

"As I am sure you are by now aware, I was unsuccessful in that endeavour as your father is alive and well. However, a curse rolled through the realm on the day you were born, an evil curse designed to destroy this land, to ruin all the lives it touched. Your father saved you by sending you to Earth before the curse struck; those of us caught in its wake were also transported to there, but unlike you, our timeline was frozen."

Emma looked quizzically at the woman sitting in front of her. This whole story sounded so unbelievable that it couldn't possibly be true. But here this woman was, sitting on a chair Emma had seen her conjure out of thin air and she doubted there was a magician on the planet who could replicate that feat.

The Queen noticed Emma had that look on her face where she was dying to interrupt and start firing off questions, and since she'd anticipated spending the better part of the evening here she was willing to allow it if only to spend more time with her. However, after a few moments of awkward silence Regina found herself forced to continue with the story when no questions were forthcoming.

"It wasn't long before the second curse was enacted, the one that brought us all back here, that I had chosen to forgive your mother. Of course, I'd had no time to speak with her and there were precious few of us who had our memories in tact after the initial curse, so the first thing she did when that curse was lifted was to take our son." And there, in her final words she'd slipped. She cringed inwardly, hoping against hope that Emma hadn't heard her refer to Henry as 'our' son.

The gods, it seemed, were on her side when Emma's only comment had been to ask her why she had forgiven her mother. The question had come as a surprise.

"There was someone I loved very dearly who had begun to show me how to forgive, how to love, how to move forward. It was a very hard lesson to learn when one has a background like mine," she laughed, self deprecatingly. "But no, Miss Swan, I found I could no longer hate the woman," _who gave birth to the only other person besides Henry that I would willing lay my life down to protect_, she faltered slightly before continuing, "the woman who had been no more than a girl when her actions had caused such chaos. It wasn't her fault and I came to realize that."

Regina watched as Emma stood up and began walking around her cell, digesting all the information she could. Emma had never been able to sit still when presented with new or exciting information. The habit had always made Regina dizzy if she tried to follow Emma's movement. But for now she sat almost transfixed as the woman before her moved. She may have been in a cell, but she looked in no way confined. How Regina wished she could feel Emma's soft skin again, press her lips against her own or hold her so close that the two would almost feel as one.

_"What is it Miss Swan?" She watched as the blonde woman confidently strode through her office, sitting on the edge of the desk close to where Regina was working. She blinked up at the woman looking intensely down upon her._

_"Are we just going to pretend last night didn't happen?"_

_"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about. And kindly remove yourself from my desk; there are chairs available for a reason."_

_"Dammit, Regina, we're going to talk about this!"_

_"No, we are not. It was an accident, a mistake."_

_"Are you telling me you felt nothing? Coz I sure as hell did, and the look on your face told me you did too."_

_Regina pushed her chair back and stood up, invading the blonde's personal space as she moved her face inches from Emma's. It had just been one kiss, one small, accidental kiss as she was leaving the apartment after having picked up Henry._

_"That's exactly what I'm saying."_

_"Bullshit."_

_Regina was barely able to conceal her surprise as she felt Emma's hand snake around the back of her head and entwine itself in her hair. There had been a brief pause as the background sounds had drowned out around them, when their breath had mingled together. Emma had wasted no further time before closing the remaining distance between them, kissing the Mayor soundly upon her lips._

_Regina had pushed past her initial shock as she felt soft lips against her own and quickly took control. She leaned deeper in to the kiss, licking softly over Emma's lower lip before she was rewarded with those very same lips parting slightly. She allowed her tongue to explore this warm, new territory and revelled in the experience._

_It felt like minutes, but was perhaps only moments later when they broke apart, Emma not removing her hand from the brunette's hair._

_"Go ahead and tell me you didn't feel that either."_

_Regina answered the only way she could - crashing her lips against Emma's once more._

When her eyes refocused she noticed Emma had stopped pacing and was instead giving her a curious look. Immediately Regina threw her walls up, although she felt they offered her no protection under the steady gaze that was coming her way; those walls had already been broken down once by Emma, and whilst she may not remember it, Regina certainly did. She swallowed the lump in her throat and bargained with herself that if she could get out of here without slipping up further, she would allow her memories free reign that night. Thankfully her mind thought this a good bargain and the deal was struck.

Standing, Regina reached in to the bag beside her and pulled out a change of clothes and a hairbrush.

"I thought you may find these useful, Miss Swan," she said, her tone holding just the right pitch of feigned indifference.

Passing them through the bars she handed them to Emma, her fingers lightly grazing over the blonde's and she felt her breath catch momentarily.

The touch of electricity was not lost on Emma as Regina noticed Emma's eyes snap to her own as the contact was made. _Leave, leave now Regina_ she thought to herself.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, for everything," Emma said, indicating the new mattress and blanket that were already in her cell.

The Queen cringed. "Regina is fine," she said as she moved to leave. On the spur of the moment she let her hand touch the unforgiving, cold steel bars; allowing her hand to linger just long enough to reinforce the magic she had previously left behind. _A safeguard_ she told herself. "Good night, Miss Swan."

And with that the Queen was gone and Emma found herself once more alone in the dungeon. This time, however, the Queen had moved something inside her and her departure had left her feeling bereft.

* * *

o

* * *

_"No, Regina, no please, don't!"_

_Regina laughed evilly, baring her teeth in a cruel resemblance of a smile._

_"Oh Emma," she said patronizingly, running her fingers through blonde hair, "you knew what you signed up for when you started coming to my bed. You know what I am. Why do you pull away from me now?"_

_She mocked a lover's touch as she ran her hand down between Emma's breasts._

_"Regina please, please listen to me. I love you - and I know you love me. This isn't you. Please, Regina."_

_"Stop! Stop your incessant noise. Love is a weakness, haven't I taught you that yet?"_

_Without a moment's hesitation, she pushed through Emma's chest with her hand, pulling out a red, beating heart seconds later._

For the second night in a row Regina woke to an anguished scream ripping forth from her throat, the dream world colliding with reality, leaving her trembling and terrified until the sun finally broke to a new day.

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o

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**A/N: Thanks to all those who are leaving reviews - they are most welcome and definitely appreciated!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Thanks, as always, to Jo - who tolerates my many errors and countless questions.**

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Regina added the last finishing touches to the fruit and cheese platter she had been preparing before taking the wooden tray to the table, just to the inside of the balcony which overlooked her gardens. A carafe of warm apple cider was already waiting on the table, a small fire burning in the fireplace behind her – all in all the setting did not look so much regal as it did welcoming.

She walked out through the double doors to her balcony and looked down over her garden. A few of the common guards patrolled, but the numbers in her employ were nowhere near to what they had been at the height of her reign. Idly she brushed snow from the stone railing; the chill in the morning air caused her breath to wisp out from her mouth as she exhaled and she felt peaceful.

She turned her eyes eastward. Somewhere beyond the trees, beyond the mountains, Snow and James would be determining her fate. Somewhere in the midst of all that was her son. Her beautiful boy whose first smile she could remember, his first words, his first steps – how his eyes would light up when she was around, rocking him gently to sleep or singing him sweet lullabies. She had poured her heart and soul in to this small, helpless child; loving him as her mother never loved her.

Eventually though, as all things do, his love for her had cooled as his paranoia had been fuelled by a book she thought long destroyed. _Although, _she thought grimly, _it's hardly paranoia when it's all actually true_. She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. The drawings had been so damnably accurate and Henry had been so smart. The more she clung to the past, trying harder to recapture the easy mother and son relationship they had once had, the more he had pulled away. Her heart had ached at his gradual movement away from her, every action in his eyes an act of an evil queen. It had broken her heart when he had turned to Emma, sought her out and brought her back.

She sighed as she lifted her hands from the balcony railing, her knuckles having gone white from gripping so hard. She had made so many mistakes in regards to Henry, in regards to Emma. She mentally berated herself for never learning from her previous errors and finding herself forever doomed to repeat them.

A cough from behind her brought her back from her reverie.

"Your Majesty," the guard said, "as you requested." He indicated the blonde woman standing to his side.

"Yes, thank you, that will be all," she replied as way of dismissal. The guard had been a member of the Royal Guard and was quick to take a hint, disappearing from sight – invisible but ever present in case she had need. She had been thankful that some of the Royal Guard had returned as she was not impressed with the common guards at the best of times.

She turned her eyes to Emma, allowing them briefly to take in the sight of the blonde standing before her fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. As their eyes locked, Regina felt complete and a smile escaped before she had time to rein it in.

Taking a few steps in to the room and towards the blonde her smile faltered as her gaze shifted downward.

Pointing at the handcuffs and trying to maintain a measure of composure she roughly asked, "Who put those on you?"

Emma shrugged before answering, "I don't know his name. The fat one?"

Regina's brow furrowed as she tried to place the guard in her mind. "Jonathan?" she asked.

"No, the other one."

Regina frowned as she nodded to herself, she would have to have words with that guard.

She made her way over to Emma, taking her lightly by the wrists and unlocking the cuffs, tossing them in the direction the guard had left. She assumed the guard caught them as she never heard them hit the ground.

"Let me take a look," Regina mused as she slowly turned Emma's wrists over in her hands. The guard had put them on none too gently and angry, red marks were bright against her white wrists. She channelled a small amount of healing magic through her hands, warm to the touch against Emma's cold skin. She fancied she heard a small intake of breath as the magic began to work.

"There we go, Miss Swan," she said, the smile reappearing on her face, "all patched up."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Emma replied.

Regina laughed a little. "I thought I said to call me Regina," she said, a ghost of a smile playing upon her lips, "we have no need of formalities here."

"And yet you still call me 'Miss Swan,'" Emma quipped in return.

"What would Your Grace have me call her?" Regina had rejoined, bowing her head in deference.

At Emma's small smile, Regina's heart leapt in to her throat.

"Just Emma," she said, "it's all I've ever been and honestly that's all I can take right now. Just Emma."

Regina looked down and noticed she still held Emma's hands in her own; the blonde had made no move to take them back. As much as the contact was welcome to her, Emma had no recollection and as much as it pained her, she let go of her hands and gestured to the table instead.

"Well, 'Just Emma', I do hope you're hungry. Fruit and cheese, spiced bread and warm apple cider – all made fresh this morning. I don't know about you, but I'm famished."

For the first time in what felt like weeks, the pair ate together in friendly companionship, neither touching on any volatile topics of conversation and Regina felt happy.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma slumped up against the wall of her cell, a blanket pulled lightly around her. She hadn't really known until today how the weather had been outside, but it sure felt like the dead of winter out there. However here, in her cell, it was pleasantly warm. She thought back on the day she'd just had. The whole day itself was full of surprises and she just didn't know what to make of any of it.

_Breakfast had been finished and Emma could say quite certainly it had been the best breakfast she'd had that she could remember. She'd had easy banter with the Queen sitting beside her, a familiarity creeping in that she couldn't quite place her finger on. A mystery for another day._

_They'd taken a short tour of the castle after breakfast – short, not because the castle was so small, but because Regina had closed off more than half of it, as Emma had learned. "Not enough staff to warrant the entire castle being used," Regina had said by way of explanation. Emma had nodded, still looking at all the tapestries and paintings. Art was never her thing, but some of these were exquisitely done._

_Regina had suggested they take a walk through the castle grounds and had given Emma a coat just as she was about to protest the cold. Wrapped snugly they walked through the gardens, a fine layer of snow covering the ground._

"_It looks magical," Emma had mentioned on more than one occasion, for it really had looked like it was taken from a fairy tale book. Sculpted hedges in a variety of animal shapes, brilliantly colourful flowers still blooming in the dead of winter and the centrepiece to the garden was a beautiful apple tree still bearing fruit._

_Emma had been entranced by this lone apple tree, had walked around its perimeter, had touched its leaves and its bark – had even taken the time to smell the fruit it offered. She had been slightly taken aback by the distant look on Regina's face when she had finally turned to look at her._

"_This is beautiful, Regina," she'd said almost breathlessly. Her voice had snapped Regina back to the present as Emma was greeted with another one of those smiles she had seen earlier in the day. It had made her breath catch once before, and it seemed it was destined to do the same again this time._

"_Yes, it is," Regina had replied, "it belonged to me when I was here many years ago. It was the only thing I brought with me when I arrived; the only thing in this garden that I can say is truly mine."_

_Emma saw the distant look in this woman's eyes once again, with more than just a hint of sadness touching the edges._

"_You weren't born here?" Emma had asked before she had time to silence her tongue. Mentally she kicked herself for bringing up something that was obviously painful to this woman before her. She kicked herself a second time for caring._

"_No, I wasn't. Like this tree in the garden, I never truly belonged here."_

_Emma noticed as internal walls came up, shutting down the memories of this place in another time. They'd left the gardens after that and Regina had shown her the rest of the grounds – empty stables had been low on her list, but a natural hot spring had looked enticing. At Emma's query Regina had mentioned the area was warded, prying eyes would not wander in this direction._

_It was with this segue that Regina had mentioned it worked similarly to the cloaking of the castle. Now that Emma had seen the hot spring, she could return – but no one on the outside would find it, regardless of how hard they looked._

"_However," Regina had conceded, "it takes considerably less magic to shield a hot spring than it does to shield an entire castle and its grounds."_

_Lunch had been an uneventful affair. Regina had passed through the kitchens on the way to the back terrace, taking some fresh bread and cheese on the way. Once again they'd eaten in quiet companionship._

_The afternoon was spent indoors near a roaring fireplace. At Emma's request Regina had taken to regaling her with stories of Henry, some of his antics having them laughing at both the thought and the memory._

_The day had turned to night when the first grumbling of Emma's stomach made them realize the time. The fleeting look that passed over Regina's face made Emma think of Cinderella when the clock struck 12._

"_Let's get us some dinner," Regina had said, resigned. She'd led them to a small kitchen away from the main one they had passed through before lunch and busied herself with preparing dinner for them both._

_Emma had watched in rapt attention as this woman quickly and efficiently began gathering ingredients for what would turn out to be a very familiar dish._

_After the first mouthful Emma had realized this was none other than the same food she had been given in the dungeons. Without a doubt in her mind she knew it._

"_This is delicious," she'd remarked._

"_Old family recipe," had been the reply._

_But her time was up and the Royal Guard had been called to take her back to her cell. Her day's reprieve from looking at those walls was over, but she couldn't help this nagging question that had been burning in her mind. Finally, she had to ask._

"_Regina, before I go," she'd faltered over the last word, "may I ask a question?"_

"_Yes, dear, what is it?"_

"_The other day you said that the first curse that was enacted destroyed everything and we were all transported to earth," she began. Regina had only sat, nodding in agreement. "But if it was destroyed, how are we back here? I don't understand." She shrugged helplessly._

_Regina had pondered the question before answering with a single word. "Magic," she'd said._

_Emma nodded, taking the answer in her stride as if that is what she had been expecting, and turned, giving the Royal Guard a grin. "Let's go, that cell won't get filled by itself."_

_She gave a quick glance over her shoulder as she exited and the look of regret and despair across Regina's face was gone so quickly she was sure she'd imagined it._

And so here Emma sat, in her cell, pondering how this day could have been any stranger. Pondering why she never took the opportunity to run.

* * *

o

* * *

Henry sighed as he sat on the edge of his bed. If he was completely honest with himself, this wasn't exactly how he had imagined Fairytale Land. Everyone here was just so painfully _normal_ but without the benefit of microwaves or a toilet that flushed. He'd thought there would be some grand adventures, heroic acts of bravery, villains to fight and maidens to save. But there wasn't, and really, he just missed his Mom and Emma. They'd started to really become a family but something had happened; he wasn't sure what but it was enough to make Emma want to leave.

_Emma had stopped by in the middle of the night wanting to take him with her, away from his Mom. When he'd fully realized the impact he'd forced her small, yellow bug off the road, pleading with her to stay._

Even now he could remember that night, Emma's face as she realized he wanted them all to be together.

"_Please don't make me go!" he'd cried out in panic as the car had settled down a slight embankment. "We can't go! Everything's here – me, your parents, your family! Please Emma, they need you. Your family needs you!"_

While Henry had known that his Mother could push people away to protect herself, he knew deep down that she loved Emma and would be devastated without her. They were family, they were _his_ family and to him this family was everything.

He took his time looking around the room that had been assigned to him. It was going to be a slow process trying to make the bedroom seem more like his own; as it was, it felt like just another guest area - as if it were waiting for him to leave. He didn't want to admit that the only way this would feel like home was if his Mom and Emma returned. Truthfully, he didn't know if that would even be possible. Whilst people were nice to him, he couldn't help but feel there was an air of pity when they spoke with him. When they weren't aware he was there, he would hear them talk about his Mom, of the person she was before Storybrooke; how thankful they were that Henry was out of her 'evil clutches'. It broke his heart.

Subconsciously he made his way over to the covered mirror at the other end of the room, lifting the sheet from the bottom, just enough to see the glass. He suspected why all the mirrors had been covered up the moment they had arrived and it was with a moment of clarity that he sought to discover the truth of it himself.

"Mom?" he asked softly to the mirror, his fingertips lightly touching the cold glass. "Mom, are you there?"

He waited, holding his breath in anticipation of seeing his mother's face flicker in the mirror. However, as the time carried on, he felt his hope waver before finally disappearing altogether.

The mirror offered him no glimpse of his mother, no acknowledgement of any kind. It just continued to reflect his own crestfallen expression and a room that could have been any room at all within the palace. Shrugging his shoulders in defeat, he let the cloth fall back in to place as he wandered out of his room dejected.

* * *

o

* * *

Regina woke early as the sun had barely started its passage across the morning sky. Her night had been restless once more, her dreams leaving her exhausted yet again. Nights such as those were beginning to drain her emotionally as well as physically - not a night had she been spared since arriving back in Fairytale Land. Whenever she closed her eyes, her own private hell would rise up to engulf her. The nightmares were always the same; always ending up with Emma's heart in her hand, Emma's blood on her soul.

And there was that name again, the name of the woman who had taught her to love, to hope, to dream; to believe that she might be capable of having her own happy ending. But the curse, she never realized, it truly would take away all the happy endings, her own included. Her old doubts had begun to resurface, her deepest fear that there was nothing left inside her to love. She had questioned Emma, asked her to explain her love; her insecurities a chink in the armour that was their family, her questions the water that froze and thawed and pushed the crack wider. She couldn't lose Emma but she couldn't trust her either. She had heard the soft click of the front door that night as Henry had left, the familiar motor of Emma's death-trap bug as it had driven away.

She'd allowed herself to believe Henry was still in his room, his pillows under the blankets an unconvincing disguise, but it failed to stop the tears that poured down her face, failed to stop the tortured scream that ripped from her throat. How long she sat at the foot of Henry's bed, baptizing herself in tears of hurt and regret, she could not say. Perhaps it was an hour, but it had felt like an eternity. Just when she thought she might have no more tears to cry, she heard the familiar motor once more and another soft click of the front door. She had made her choice in that moment, stupid choice that it was, to keep Emma in Storybrooke, albeit in such a deep sleep as to be indistinguishable from a coma. She had been so very stupid, so very selfish and so very, very desperate.

A memory assailed her, so briefly it left her gasping for breath; a look of sheer hatred and fear warring for superiority across Emma's beautiful face, her words holding more anger than she ever knew possible. "_But let's be clear about something, Your Majesty," she'd said with venom, "the only reason you're not dead is because I need your help to save Henry. He dies, so do you." She'd spat the last words out, hate lacing her every syllable._

_And what have we learned, hmm Regina?_ Her internal voice asked, mocking her. _Where is Emma now, where do you force her to sleep? You learn nothing!_

With this final thought Regina set to work preparing their morning breakfast – a promise to herself that she would make it right in this realm.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma was awake and ready in her cell when the guard came to bring her up. After the first day it had always been a member of the Royal Guard who came to collect her, the handcuffs had never been forthcoming a second time. As always, the fat guard's eyes bore in to the back of her as she left, his hatred of her almost physical in its strength. She didn't really care, but in idle moments she wondered what she'd done to cause this amount of dislike.

She ascended the stairs, the Royal Guardsman behind her and out of sight. For the last few weeks, she had been spending her days outside her cell, taking her meals with Regina. It was a strange sort of existence. After the first few days Regina had allowed her to wander the castle and its grounds by herself – although she knew without a shadow of a doubt a pair of Royal Guards would never be too far. She had been allowed to use the hot spring, allowed to stroll through the gardens and watch the guards train. Even so, she found herself often making her way back to Regina, often to hear tales of Henry, sometimes to hear tales of how the realms were before the curse. At times Regina would be required to meet with her court spies and learn what movement there was in realm and each time these encounters would leave her pale and withdrawn.

Regina didn't often talk about herself, a deep sadness playing on her features the one time Emma asked about a ring she wore around her neck. "_It belonged to my fiancé,"_ she'd said once as they were walking the grounds. _"He died, many years ago."_

"_And you've not loved anyone since?" Emma had asked before cursing her inability to think before speaking._

_Regina had smiled sadly before answering. "Just one, but I fear I have destroyed that as well."_

_Without thinking Emma had taken hold of the older woman's hand and given it a tight squeeze. "You are worthy of love, Regina," she'd said openly. Emma had noticed Regina's footsteps falter slightly before she felt a tentative squeeze on her hand in return. They had finished their walk in silence, fingers still laced together as they made their way into the castle._

Emma found herself in conflict often between wanting to leave this place far behind, find a way back to Boston and forget all the craziness that was rapidly injecting itself in to her life. However, at the same time she felt drawn to this dark, desperately lonely woman. She felt a longing to soothe the pain the brunette tried so hard to hide; she felt this woman was a mirror to her own life. Something was broken inside the dark-haired beauty and Emma yearned to fix it.

Ascending the final stair she saw Regina on the balcony before her, a delicious looking breakfast laying in wait on the table between them. Slipping outside to the balcony, she stood beside the older woman, taking in the fresh air as the last vestiges of winter were slowly dissipating. The morning was still cool but the layer of frost was no longer a regular visitor. Emma rested her hand on the other woman's arm, smiling brightly when deep brown eyes were turned her way. Not for the first time Emma felt her stomach flutter just a little at the sight; she wondered if it were physically possibly to be lost in someone's eyes.

"Let's eat," she suggested, breaking her eyes away.

"Always hungry, Miss Swan," had come the reply, the smile playing on her voice.

Emma laughed softly as she swiped two cinnamon rolls from the table, handing one to Regina as they stood on the balcony. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me 'Emma'?"

Regina smiled to herself. It was the small things that she still enjoyed, the easy banter with the blonde woman before her, being able to cook her favourite foods and watch her eat them with as much enthusiasm as she had in Storybrooke. The cinnamon rolls they were currently eating were amongst the favourites. She knew there had been some talk in the castle as to why she was busying herself cooking when at least three of her chefs had returned. She chose to ignore it, and a few well placed sparks of lightning had quelled the more vocal of the gossipers in to silenced mutterings.

She watched as Emma finished her roll, licking her fingers of the last of the cinnamon and sugar.

"I have a surprise for you, Emma, something I want to show you." The way Emma's eyes lit up with wonder filled Regina's heart – it had been a long time since they were filled with anything but distrust and resignation.

Regina led them downstairs into the courtyard and through the gardens towards a grassed area that would have been perfect for children to play. Taking Emma's hand to quiet her she stepped past the final garden bed waiting for the blonde's reaction when she, too, saw it.

Emma's breath hitched when she first caught sight of the brilliant white unicorn standing before her. The creature held her mesmerized, its light magic radiating out and making Emma feel buoyant, her childlike wonder creating a smile to play upon her face.

Regina grinned as she gave Emma a gentle nudge forward. "Go, pat him if you wish. You have nothing to fear; unicorns are without malice." It had been long since a unicorn had come to her gardens, after her first year here as Snow's step-mother she had not seen another wildly roaming. She supposed it was their innate magic that held them back from ever visiting again.

She watched in happiness as Emma tentatively stroked the neck of the unicorn, brushing down its mane. She was lost in the unscarred magic of this beautiful beast.

For what seemed like hours, though may have simply been minutes, Emma nuzzled this creature's neck, delight playing across her features. Before too long the unicorn had neighed once and shook its mane before cantering off across the lawns. It was such a rare sight to see Emma so free from concerns, so light hearted that Regina was all but caught off guard as the blonde came bounding up to her, planting a kiss to her lips as she slipped her arms around her waist.

As quickly as the kiss had started it had stopped; before Regina's brain had time to catch up, before her lips had time to respond.

"That was beautiful," Emma had breathed, releasing Regina with one arm, her other arm still around the brunette's waist as she turned back to the retreating form of the unicorn.

"Yes, it was," Regina agreed, having no illusions in herself that she was not referring to the unicorn. Slipping her arm comfortably around Emma's shoulders she started to guide them back to the castle, the unicorn finally leaving the palace grounds.

* * *

o

* * *

The visit from the unicorn had left them both feeling carefree for the rest of the day, the light magic from the animal seeping in to their very being. The quizzical look Emma had given Regina when a guard had made a passing comment about preparations being almost complete had set a small smile upon Regina's lips. She would make things right in this realm and this would just be the start. This woman beside her may not have the memories of this past year, _but perhaps,_ Regina had thought, _that's better for us both._ She would do things right this time.

The sun had almost finished its daily descent, a cool change in the air when Emma's stomach started making its nightly growls indicating dinner would be a welcome plan.

"Your stomach is as good as any clock," Regina had often quipped upon hearing it rumble in protest.

Tonight was no exception as they walked through the hall towards the smaller of the kitchens in the palace. Their easy banter was filling the room, lost in each other and the conversation when a loud 'pop' came from behind, startling the pair.

"Well, well, well," a voice from behind greeted them.

The two spun in unison at the intrusion of this voice. The shiver that ran down Regina's spine left her head in a spin. _Not now,_ she thought, _this can't be._ But there, standing before them both was Rumpelstiltskin in all his golden glory.

"What do you want?" Regina hissed, taking the smallest of steps to place herself partially between the crazed imp and the woman who held her heart.

"Aren't you two such a cosy pair," Rumpelstiltskin said, ignoring the question before him. "Not going to offer me a drink, Regina? Hmm. Not very hospitable of you, dearie."

"What do you want?" Regina asked a second time, emphasizing her words with deadly precision. "How did you get in here?"

"Oh come now, dearie. Do you really think a few weak illusions would be enough to fool me, hmm?" Rumpelstiltskin wagged his finger at the brunette as he would a wayward child. Taking a seat he looked between the pair. "Aren't you two just the picture of… happiness," he said, the final word coming out in a sneer.

"You still haven't answered me, Rumpelstiltskin." Regina felt her fingertips crackle with energy. She'd let her consciousness wander slightly, surprised to feel the familiar tug of magic signalling the illusion spell still holding firmly in place.

"You know dear, it's not going to be long before her parents," he said, pointing towards Emma, "find you. You can't hide forever."

Regina leaned back slightly, never taking her eyes from the man before her. "Go," she whispered to Emma, a ball of force gathering in the palm of Regina's hand.

"I can help you fight," Emma had responded.

"Now is not the time to argue, just go. Please," she all but begged. She could not lose Emma now.

Rumpelstiltskin, for his part, had sat by idly tracing invisible lines upon the table as if he hadn't a care in the world. The ball of force that was loosed in his direction that Regina had hoped would knock the imp unconscious was caught easily in his hand, his eyes never taking leave from the patterns he were drawing.

Emma, to Regina's relief, had taken the last few steps out the door and gone. Unfortunately her relief was short lived as Rumpel stood, crushing the magic in his hand as he turned his eyes back upon the Queen.

"Your hospitality leaves a lot to be desired, Your Majesty."

"You are no guest of mine," she replied, readying another spell in her hand.

Rumpelstiltskin briefly feigned hurt at the action before a menacing smile played upon his lips as he leaned forward almost conspiratorially. "Does she know?" he asked idly. Without waiting for a response, however, he continued. "Not that it matters, of course; the Charming parents have found themselves a new ally."

"And you've what, come here to gloat, Rumpel? I have no time for your games." Regina allowed the spell on her hand to die out.

"No dear… well, maybe just a little. I can't help that your misfortune gives me so much pleasure." He giggled with delight.

"Then for the last time, why are you here?" Regina had tired of this man; all she wanted was to go to Emma.

Rumpelstiltskin moved with lightning speed as he stood inches from the brunette's face, his eyes searching her face as that same malicious smile reappeared.

"There are no happy endings here, Your Majesty, not for the likes of you. You can pretend all you want, but we both know how this will end. This is Fairytale Land and you have no happy ending here." He emphasized the last words for impact.

Regina had been unable to keep a shadow of hurt from crossing her face as she heard him. The same doubt she had in Storybrooke resurfaced with a vengeance and she fought to control her features. This was not the time to show weakness.

Rumpelstiltskin, however, had seen the flash of pain and couldn't help but twist the knife just a little.

"Pleasant dreams, Your Majesty," he said, venom lacing his words, a knowing look in his eye. With a click of his fingers he was gone.

Regina collapsed in to the nearest chair, her head in her hands as tears rolled freely down her face. She couldn't afford to believe the words that repeated themselves in her head, wouldn't let herself be dragged down again by doubt and fear. She lost herself in her own thoughts, allowed herself this small moment of weakness and failed to hear the soft closing of the door behind her.

Emma had made no attempt to leave as Regina had wished, instead choosing to stand just outside the door, ready in case a fight erupted. She was still uncomfortable around magic and this man who had popped out of thin air had given her the creeps almost instantly. The fact Regina had shielded her somewhat with her own body had only increased her sense of unease and she had been genuinely concerned for both their safeties.

She'd heard the conversation, the hatred in the man's voice and eventual resignation in Regina's. She wasn't sure what to make of the happy endings, the new ally her parents had or why this man was able to break through the castle wards so easily. She vaguely wondered if she should be more concerned that it was her parents, but ultimately they were just two more strangers to her in a long list of people she didn't know. Two strangers who had sent her away, cursed her to a fate of loneliness and hardship.

When she heard the 'pop' she assumed the small man had left and had made to go back in to the room. However, seeing Regina seated, lost her in own world, she decided to give the older woman some privacy. Instead of going in she closed the door quietly behind her and went to the kitchens, intent on having something for Regina when she came to find her. Emma wasn't certain what was happening, wasn't certain why she should be caring for this woman but there was something so deeply familiar about her, something that reminded her of the brief time she had a home when she was young and it wasn't a feeling she was ready to give up just yet.


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Thanks, as always, to Jo - who tolerates my many errors and countless questions.**

**Trigger Warning for the first half of this chapter - if you're the type to be triggered by attempted assault, please skip down towards the end of the chapter.**

* * *

o

* * *

Jonathon sighed as he kicked his booted heel back against the wall. Things were different now that he was back in Fairytale Land, not the way they had been before the curse. He wasn't angry with the Queen for casting the curse; in fact the time in Storybrooke had liberated him from the constant fear of being indentured to the most evil woman in all the realms. It was a shame his father had been so indebted to this woman that he'd had to sign over his only son to work for her – but in all these years, he'd forgiven his father of that. However, he just couldn't shake the feeling he had that things were just _different_ here, now. Fundamentally, it was so much more than the fact the Queen no longer struck fear in to the hearts of her staff. It was true that she still commanded an air of authority and people were quick to obey, but the threat of their heart ending up in her hand on a whim did not seem as likely a possibility as it once had. Still it felt different here, different than it once was and he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Hey, are you listening to me?" The voice beside him rocked him out of his thoughts.

He loathed this man. Loathed that he had guard duty with him, loathed his morals, his ethics, or lack thereof; there was not a single redeeming feature about this man. He sighed again.

"Ya, I'm listening," Jonathon gave a measured reply.

"Good, so I reckon tonight's the only chance we're gonna get," he leered, pulling his uniform jacket down a bit, the buttons stretching and threatening to pop.

"Chance for what?" Jonathon asked, looking up and feeling slightly lost in the conversation. He truly hadn't been paying any attention and wasn't sure why he'd want to start now.

"For the princess of course! You really weren't listening were you? Look, the buzz around the castle is she's gonna be moved, tomorrow, in to the room right next to the Queen for fuck's sake." He took a drag on his cigarette.

"You shouldn't be smoking on duty," Jonathon mentioned idly, "and why do you care if she's moved? If the princess belongs to the Queen you'll want to keep your hands off her lest you lose them."

"You really don't think ahead, do you Jon? The Queen is no threat, you've seen her. She's all puppy dog eyes; those years in Storybrooke made her soft. She's not the one I pledged my allegiance to all those years ago."

Jonathon grunted in return, slipping back in to his own thoughts. It actually took him a few moments to realize that his loathsome counterpart was not, in fact, standing on the other side of the door guarding the entrance to the dungeons and that the door to the cellblock was open.

"Christ," he muttered under his breath, following him in to the dungeons.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma sat in her cell, smiling to herself for no outwardly discernable reason. As she had suspected, _nay anticipated,_ Regina had come to find her not long after Emma had left her to her privacy. The slight trace of red around the brunette's eyes the only thing betraying the fact she'd been crying. Emma had dutifully ignored it.

_Dinner had been a quiet affair; Emma had noticed Regina's breath hitching at what she believed were remembered comments from Rumpelstiltskin. Part way through she had leant over, wrapping her hand around the brunette's and giving it a tight squeeze of reassurance. _'I'm here," she'd said, "if you need.'_ The openness that greeted her from Regina's face was astounding in its vulnerability. Emma felt that now familiar tug in her chest as she gazed at the brunette; if Emma hadn't known better, she thought she might be falling in love._

It was with a loud shout coming from down the hall that she was broken from her memories of that evening.

"Stop!" She heard Jonathon yell from up the hallway as the fat guard appeared at her cell. The look he gave her sent a cold chill down her spine as her adrenalin began to surge. That fight or flight response in her truly felt it was needed right now.

Emma noticed too late that the guard had drawn his truncheon from the side opposite to where Jonathon was running in from; watched as if in slow motion as Jonathon was cracked hard against the side of his head and saw his body fall limply to the ground, unconscious. She raised her hand to her mouth, mentally trying to still her rising panic and finding herself failing. Her mind began to shift between the present and the past, the cell doors blurring in to an image of her bedroom door, shimmering back to a cell door almost instantly.

She shook her head. _Not again,_ she thought.

The guard had unlocked the cell and begun to advance upon her, pure hatred flashing across his face, loathing in his eyes.

_She hadn't sensed the danger at first when her roommate's boyfriend had come in to her room all those years ago. It had always been Gavin; he was an easy going guy, friendly with everyone, life of the party. Too friendly with Emma as it turned out. His hands had roamed and she had no interest in him, her roommate was her only friend and she wasn't keen on cheating with any guy. Little had she anticipated that Gavin would not take 'no' for an answer._

_The next few minutes had dragged on as if they were an eternity; pain flared through her, her cries left unanswered as she screamed for help, for anyone to save her. Gavin had only laughed at her, telling her how much she wanted it, blaming her for leading him on. She could feel his breath on her face, feel his hands on her body and feel…_

Her stomach clenched, fighting to keep the bile down as she saw the guard unfasten his belt. _Gods no,_ she pleaded silently, mentally trying to kick herself in to action, any action to stop what would otherwise be inevitable.

Her mouth moved to speak, but no voice came out; she willed her legs to move but it was as if they were nailed to the stone floor; she managed to clench and unclench her hands at her sides, but they felt as lead if she tried to raise them. _Gods, Em, move!_ She willed herself.

It wasn't until she felt the thick hand of the guard around her throat, pushing her back against the wall that her paralysis of fear finally loosed its grasp upon her. With a tortured cry she screamed as she brought her knee up in to the guard's groin, dismayed to find it only antagonized him further.

"No one to hear you down here, princess," he snarled at her, pulling at her jeans.

She felt the tears prick behind her eyes; she thought of Henry and wondered if nine months from now she'd have another reminder of her degradation, her humiliation. The smiling face of Regina passed by in her mind's eye, dinner that night had been so wonderful.

"Regina," she'd managed to whisper, "help me."

* * *

o

* * *

Regina couldn't quite tell what had happened; it had all been so fast. One minute she had been sitting at her dresser, reminiscing of the evening they had spent together and the next all her senses were on high alert. Magical alarms were being set off and she couldn't nail down if her wards had been breached. It had taken her precious moments to find no hole in her wards, they were safe _which meant, oh gods,_ Regina thought _the magic warding on the cell_. At that moment she heard a frantic whisper, _'Regina, help me'_ and she wasted no time in teleporting herself to the dungeon. The scene before her eyes became blurred in slow motion as pain wracked her heart. Without taking pause to think her hand had punched through the guard's back, pulling his heart out from behind; crushing it to dust in seconds.

The pair before her had slipped to the floor, the guard held an expression of surprise on his dead face, Emma was breathing but unconscious.

She gathered Emma up in her arms, holding her tightly to her chest, her tears spilling down on Emma's porcelain white skin. She brushed the hair from Emma's face, whispering sweet nothings in to her ear, begging her to come back, begging her forgiveness.

As Emma's eyes slowly opened Regina let out a cry of delight, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her eyes, thanking whatever powers there were that Emma was awake.

Emma threw her arms around the brunette, burying her face in the older woman, shaking as her own tears overwhelmed her.

Regina smoothed Emma's hair, holding her tightly against her body. Over Emma's head, she saw Jonathon stumbling to his feet, an angry bruise already beginning to form against his jaw.

"Clean up this mess," she hissed between her teeth, indicating the dead guard at her feet.

Without waiting for a response she teleported them back to her chambers, laying quietly with Emma on her bed, not releasing the hold she had on her. Her heart broke for the blonde woman in her arms, for what might have happened had she not set her wards, for what never should have happened once before. She held back her own tears as she comforted Emma, hands rubbing soothing patterns down her back, whispering words of nonsense.

Regina had known how Henry had been conceived. It had only been touched on briefly; Regina had seen the pain in Emma's eyes. There would be time enough for her own regret at placing Emma in harm's way, for now she had to be here for her.

The sobs and shakes eventually gave way to exhaustion and Regina heard the blonde's measured breaths, felt the relaxation in Emma's body. As she gently tried to extricate herself, set to sleep on the couch that was placed before the fireplace in the room, Emma's light slumber was broken.

"Stay," she said simply, muffled slightly by the pillow.

Regina moved back, settling in closely to Emma.

"Always," came her reply. But the blonde had already succumbed to sleep once more.

* * *

o

* * *

"Snow, what have you done?" James asked, leaning over to his wife who was sitting on a matching throne, genuine concern etched upon his face. His wife had become more anxious as the days had turned in to weeks; as winter had begun to fade in to spring and still no word of Emma had reached their ears. If truth be told, he worried also what had happened; why there had been no movement from Regina to secure Henry.

"I did what I had to," Snow said, looking up to her husband, her voice holding a slight tone of accusation before finally relenting. "Family will always find each other. We've had scouts out every day, we've had our court magicians working from sun up til sun down and beyond; we have to find our daughter."

James couldn't deny the fact that Regina and Emma had simply fallen off the proverbial grid. After the first day arriving back in Fairytale Land no one had seen hide nor hair of them and it had given him room for pause. But Snow had become too agitated to wait for their own court spies and scouts to find Emma, she'd acted in desperation.

"Who is this you're bringing here, Snow? Can this person be trusted with the life of our daughter?"

As if on cue, the doors to the hall swung open as a lone woman strode confidently towards the pair along the rich, red carpet runner that led to the twin thrones.

"Gods, Snow!" James exclaimed under his breath, audible only to his wife beside him as his eyes never left the advancing form of the other woman. "You've got to be kidding me – you know what she's done!"

Snow shrugged. "You can't believe everything you hear."

A small gasp from the antechamber of the room caught James' attention briefly as he saw the scurrying form of Henry departing. He couldn't blame him, this woman had sent an involuntary shudder down his own spine; her reputation most certainly preceded her.

"Good day, Your Majesties," the woman had said, bowing in deference to the pair, "I hope I can be of service."

James took in the form of the bowing woman before him; her long black dress trailed upon the ground, her hat in her hand as her black hair hung down over her shoulders. However it was the emerald-green skin, almost luminescent in its colouring that struck most deeply within him, causing that icy cold tendril to snake its way up his back once more.

"Good day, Elphaba," he said, "welcome to Fairytale Land."

* * *

o

* * *

Regina woke slowly the following morning. The familiar, yet almost forgotten, weight of an arm haphazardly thrown across her stomach, a slender leg strewn over her own caused her to forget where she was momentarily. The soft, warm breath against her cheek caused her heart to clench as she allowed herself a few stolen moments to indulge in the feeling of belonging. How easy it would be for her to fall back asleep, wrapped against the body of the beautiful blonde at her side; how easy to believe the lie that this woman beside her could love her again. She gazed at the sleeping face of Emma, the hurt and worry washed from her porcelain white skin, her unguarded features open and trusting to Regina's eyes.

She sighed quietly to herself, biting softly on her lower lip. It would not do for Emma to wake up and find herself hopelessly entangled against her body; as much as Regina craved her touch she would get things right this time, would give Emma all the space and trust she needed. If Emma still left, at least she would know she tried. So lost in thought was she, Regina failed to notice the almost imperceptible shift in breathing from the blonde at her side.

The sun's rays were wending their way through the closed, glass balcony doors, bringing light and the promise of a better day. In the back of her mind she replayed the previous night's events on a loop, a tight ball of guilt forcing itself in to her chest, lodging itself next to her heart.

Gently Regina tried to slide out from underneath the limbs of the woman beside her, trying carefully not to wake her. As she made to move she was almost certain she felt Emma tense slightly. It was an odd sensation, almost imperceptible and Regina might have missed it had she not been so focused on the blonde at her side. _Gods, Regina, get a grip_, she chastised herself. Again as she tried to move she was sure the blonde's arm tightened around her, holding her in place. Quizzically she looked towards Emma's face, seeing her eyes still closed, her breath coming slow and even.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma had woken to the barest sigh, briefly forgetting where she was and why she was there; had awoken to find her arm and leg thrown over the Queen. Her breath had hitched slightly, but if it had been noticed, Regina said nothing. She contemplated all the ways she could move off this woman without arousing suspicion - surely anything would be preferable to actually waking up and apologizing for invading the Queen's personal space. Try as she might, however, Emma couldn't bring herself to move. A feeling of peace and familiarity had transcended over her as she allowed her body to remain moulded against Regina's; allowed herself to revel in the glorious contact she had with the woman beside her.

And so at Regina's first, hesitant movement to pull away, her body had answered automatically, tensing slightly to hold the brunette in place. It had been an involuntary, instinctual action. When the older woman had attempted for a second time to slip quietly away and her body had once again stiffened, unable to bear the loss of contact, Emma knew her pretence at sleep was ending. If she'd misread the signals of the past weeks she would know soon enough; to her own surprise, she found herself hoping that she had not misread them. Tentatively she opened her eyes and looked up towards Regina - the brunette's chocolate brown eyes gazing in to her own. That all too familiar tug in her chest caused her breath to catch ever so slightly; caused her stomach to flutter in ways it never had before.

"Entrapping a queen, are you dear?" Regina had quipped light-heartedly, the sparkle in her eye matching the teasing in her voice.

Emma leaned up on her elbow, her other arm and leg still thrown across the woman below her, unwilling to move away from the warmth. Idly she wondered if she were still dreaming.

"Turnabout seemed fair play; after all, it was you who first entrapped a princess." She'd meant the response to be light hearted, but she knew the moment the words had left her lips it had pained the older woman. Yet again she kicked herself mentally for not thinking before she spoke.

"I'm sorry, Regina, I..."

Regina shook her head, silencing the blonde any further. "It is I who should be sorry; I never meant you any harm and because of my thoughtless actions..." she allowed the rest of the sentence to remain unfinished, hanging in the air between them.

"You weren't to know what would happen."

"I should have treated you much better," Regina murmured to herself, turning her head to the side.

Emma smiled sadly down to the brunette below her, watching as once more walls came up to cover the vulnerability written plainly across her face. Without waiting to consider her motives or how her actions might be perceived, she lifted her arm from Regina's body and softly moved a few stray strands of hair behind the brunette's ear. In the same motion she gently cupped the older woman's cheek, turning her head back to face her.

"Whatever ill you believe to have done to me, I forgive you Regina," she had said quietly, never allowing her eyes to leave those of the woman beside her. If it was the last thing she did right now, it would be to convey the truth of her words, the sincerity behind them.

"You don't know what you're saying," Regina replied, but was unable to disguise the hope threading its way through her voice.

"Yes," Emma said, "I think I do."

She looked between the honey brown orbs of Regina's eyes to her softly parted lips as she watched the walls crumble once more. Slowly she leaned down, holding the older woman's eyes once more with her own, waiting to see if her advance would be unwelcome. What she saw caused her breath to catch as Regina's eyes darkened with suppressed desire, a faint glimmer of hope shining from within. Emma closed the remaining distance and captured the brunette's lips with her own, the softness of them causing a quiet moan to escape from her, only to be swallowed by the older woman. She felt questing fingers gently tangle themselves in her hair, pulling her closer; her tongue exploring Regina's yielding mouth, tasting her.

It was with no small amount of regret that Emma broke the kiss a short time later, breathless from the passion it had awakened within her. She felt Regina's strong arms holding her protectively and she sunk down in to the embrace, moulding herself to the brunette's side as if that is where she was meant to be all along. Her skin tingled as Regina's fingers traced idle lines upon her back and for the first time in a very long time, Emma felt like she truly belonged.

* * *

o

* * *

After the pair had finally roused themselves from the bed, they had made their way to the kitchens and prepared an easy breakfast of cheese and fruit. It was these simple pleasures that Regina lived for these days, taking breakfast with the woman who possessed her heart. _If only Henry were here_, she had thought to herself. Emma had been absolutely breathtaking that morning and the memory of their shared kisses was still fresh in Regina's mind, leaving her happier than she had been in a very long time.

After their meal Regina took Emma by the hand and led her back upstairs, almost all the way back to her own chambers. In response to Emma's quizzical look, Regina had only smiled.

Stopping outside the room beside her own, Regina opened the ornately carved double doors of the bedroom - equally as grand by comparison as to her own.

"For you," Regina said as she gestured Emma forward and in to the room.

She watched happily as Emma swept in to the room, smiling when Emma opened up the closet and saw tailored clothes; leather pants, vests and jackets, blouses of cotton, undergarments and two pairs of boots.

"Oh Regina, you shouldn't have," Emma had sighed as she pulled out the nearest pair of pants, her fingers running softly over the supple leather.

"There is no denim in this realm, I hope leather will suffice," Regina had replied. "Honestly, I just could not imagine you in any of the dresses that are most common in this world."

"They're perfect," Emma had replied, finding herself somewhat taken aback. "How long did all this take you?"

"Too long," Regina said softly, her eyes becoming distant as the scene that greeted her in the dungeon the previous night pushed to the forefront of her mind. Shaking her head she dispelled those thoughts, instead choosing to remain in the present.

She watched as Emma sunk down on the side of a four-poster bed, her eyes still wide with childlike wonder. In the back of her mind, Regina wondered if Emma had ever had a room that belonged truly to her - not just a rented apartment in a bad part of town, but something truly her own. Her gaze followed the blonde's own as it shifted to the small item on the bedside table.

"Henry," Emma murmured quietly as she picked up the photo frame.

Regina smiled sadly. "There are not many photos here, only what we had on us when we fell through the portal."

Emma traced the outline of Henry's smiling face, understanding the sacrifice Regina had made by giving out one of the few photos she would have had of her son.

"We need to get him back, Regina," Emma had said after some time, "he belongs with you."

_He belongs with us_, Regina had thought as she sighed softly.

"We will get him back," Regina said as she looked out over the balcony, east to the mountains, towards the kingdom where Snow and James were holding their son. After a few brief moments she turned back and moved towards Emma who was still sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I have a few meetings which require my attention this morning, one which I hope will shed some light upon our son. You are free to wander the castle and its grounds, the guards will not stop you. They have already been told to heed your word as if it has come from my mouth."

Regina watched as Emma's eyes snapped up to her own, a questioning look burning deep within them.

"You trust me?" she asked, stumbling over her words. "You trust me not to leave?"

Regina reached forward, cupping Emma's cheek with her hand; try as she might she could not put the walls up fast enough to hide her own vulnerability.

"I hope you will not," she said quietly, her voice breaking ever so slightly as her thumb ran over Emma's cheek.

With a soft kiss to the top of Emma's head, Regina turned and strode from the room, lest she shatter completely.


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Thanks, as always, to Jo - who tolerates my many errors and countless questions.**

* * *

o

* * *

Emma watched as Regina exited the room, her footsteps halting only briefly at the threshold of the door. Idly Emma had wondered if Regina would turn back to her, but whatever had been going through brunette's mind to elicit the pause at the doorway was decided within a moment of time and her momentum had carried out of the room. She glanced down once more at the photo framed in glass and sighed softly as she gently traced the outline of a young Henry's face. At a guess, she would have said the smiling face of the boy would have been seven or eight, his eyes wide and joyful as he sat before an elaborately decorated Christmas tree. The cascade of presents behind him, unable to all fit comfortably beneath the tree, was enough for Emma to know she had done the right thing in giving him up for adoption - that truly was a better life than she had ever known.

As she placed the frame back down on to the bedside table, her senses were assaulted with a remembered dream of a place she did not know. _The smell of smoke assailed her as the words "You're going to leave me, aren't you?" floated to her ears_. Coughing involuntarily, she blinked at the imagined smoke, trying to scramble to remember the dream only to have it fall away as grains of sand through the palm of her hand. Try as she might, Emma found herself left with only the ghost of a memory that was quickly fading into the deepest recesses of her mind. With a shrug of resignation, she stood and made her way to the dresser, gathering up a spare change of clothes and putting them in to the satchel beside her bed.

Walking quickly and quietly through the castle, she no longer felt the familiar prick at the back of her neck that alerted her to the fact she was being followed. Perhaps the Queen had been truthful; perhaps there really were no guards at her back. Stepping outside the double doors of the castle, Emma glanced along the pathway that led to the gates, a small part of her urging her to take the opportunity. Even as that thought crossed her mind, she remembered how her fingers threaded so easily with the brunette's as they walked the castle grounds, the soft kisses just this morning that had left her breathless and that small ache in her chest that wanted to soothe the older woman's pain. With a small smile, Emma changed her direction, heading for the hot spring instead.

* * *

o

* * *

Regina listened impatiently as her most recent court spy had returned with the latest information. All she wanted was word that Henry was well, but it had been almost a fortnight since any news of her son had been delivered.

"A caravan of travellers was seen heading towards the Charming's kingdom, but we were unsuccessful in determining who it might be. There were strong anti-magic wards surrounding the procession and we were unable to get close enough without detection." The court spy held his ground, although he averted his eyes at the incomplete news.

Regina paced - after Rumpelstiltskin's visit previously, this was not news to her. However, her curiosity was piqued about the identity of this newcomer and she was hopeful that later reports would reveal the Charming's newest ally.

"And my son?" she queried, asking the only question she truthfully cared about.

"There has been no word, Your Majesty. The last reported sighting was over a week ago and he was healthy and happy, riding beyond the castle walls with the stable master."

Regina sighed; once again, this was not new information. She had expressly forbidden any of her spies from taking Henry had he ventured beyond the walls, even if an opportunity to do so had presented itself. Her determination to get things right in this realm was taxing, but she would not have her son run at the first available opportunity if he thought she was once again evil. She'd had no time to apologize to him for baking that accursed treat, had no way of knowing how he would be the one to eat it. Her only hope was that he could forgive her as he had once before. They had become closer for a time, when Emma had been living with them, as if all the distrust was finally being erased - but once again, her fears and doubts had clouded her judgement and caused a wedge to form in her family.

Looking up, she noticed the spy still standing before her, eyes darting anywhere but in her direction. She supposed her former self would have revelled in this, the fear and trepidation warring for superiority across the young man's face. With a small hint of satisfaction, she realized she was not that woman anymore.

"Dismissed," she said with a lazy wave of her arm, watching as he backed a few steps away before finally turning and leaving her court.

With only a moment's pause, she finally exited the room, intent on heading back to her own chambers, stopping only briefly as she noticed Emma's room was empty. Tamping down her fears and insecurities that the blonde's absence caused, she entered her own room and curled up on the couch before the fireplace. With a small flick of magic, she lit the fire and pulled the nearest book on to her lap. Her first readings once returning to this realm had been magically oriented, trying to reclaim the full depth of the powers she had lost for no other reason than to guard the castle and it's singularly important inhabitant. Now that she knew Rumpelstiltskin had an all access pass to her castle, she wanted nothing more than to increase the security. Her skin crawled as she thought of the small, golden man and his spiteful words. She had played as his pawn for too long, allowed too much evil in to her heart, had become the one person in all the realms she never wanted to be. The anger she bore was too much and she had to shake her head to rid herself of the unwanted feelings.

Reading magic without a clear mind was, she knew, a recipe for disaster and so she slid the book back on the small table beside the couch. With a soft exhale she let her mind clear, opened herself to the innate magic within her and allowed herself to meditate.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma looked down at herself and her new attire. The tailor had been surprisingly accurate with her measurements and her current clothing fit her perfectly. Although mostly unaccustomed to wearing leather, the supple feel of it against her legs was a pleasant sensation - and whilst there appeared to be no zippers in this realm, the pants had laced up at the front and were still quite comfortable. Her shirt was a simple long sleeved cotton item and she found that coupled with a leather coat that came down to almost mid-calf, she was quite warm in this early spring weather. It was with some reluctance, however, that she left the hot spring and began a slow journey around the castle grounds. If she were honest with herself, the hot spring was rapidly becoming one of her favourite places - at first because it was simply the most private after the Queen had informed her of the warding spells upon it, but now because it was one of the few places she felt truly at peace.

Slowly she made her way through the palace gardens, the magical feeling not once having subsided no matter how many times she had passed through them. Even as the snow had melted and given way to more greenery, it had still felt enchanted. Pausing beneath the wide branches of the apple tree, she placed a hand against its bark. With a small amount of shock, she found she was momentarily left breathless as a profound feeling of familiarity and regret passed through her. Where this sudden feeling had come from, she was unsure, and it had been so fleeting it had passed through her before she could anchor it to any particular memory.

_And that really is the problem, isn't it Swan_ she thought to herself, wearily. Every day since she had been here she had strived to fill in the blank portions of her memory; Regina had been less helpful than she had hoped in that regard. She couldn't shake the feeling that the pair had known each other well in her missing time, but the Queen had remained distant, carefully deflecting all her questions on the subject. It was as if something was sitting below the surface, and if she could just scratch at the layers enough she would know; would discover what it was that her memory wasn't allowing her to recall. The swell in her heart when she thought of the dark-haired beauty in the castle called to her in a way that she firmly believed it never would have done if there had not been history between them. _And also,_ her mind reminded her once again, _she has been nothing but caring towards you in all the time you have been here_. Again, however, that was the crux of her current argument - if all she was in this realm was a pawn to help the Queen reacquire her son, why treat her so differently. Indeed, why now allow her almost complete control of the palace itself?

She shifted the weight on her feet, looking around the gardens and out to the grassed area of the castle grounds as her mind tumbled from one thought to the next. The breeze had begun to pick up and she felt, more than heard, a faint growl come from her stomach. A glance overhead had confirmed that it would be nearing lunch and with a yawn, she grudgingly moved from this serenity back into the bustle of the castle itself.

Passing through the kitchens, Emma grabbed a small tray and placed an assortment of food upon it. One of the chefs had given her an odd glance, but had kept her thoughts to herself. In all the time she had spent outside her cell, she could not recall more than half a dozen times when Regina was ever waited on by any of her staff. It was almost as if this entire castle was running by itself, for itself, whilst Regina remained as merely a watchful eye. It was an odd thought and Emma chose not to dwell overly long upon it.

When she had been unable to locate the Queen in either her study or the formal court she had been somewhat perplexed. It was not often Regina could not be found in either of those two locations, and in those instances she was usually sitting out underneath the apple tree. Turning, she looked up the vast staircase and muttered softly under her breath. Taking the stairs steadily, balancing the tray as best she could, she sought her out in the only other logical location - the Queen's private chambers.

The door to the bedroom was left slightly ajar, needing only a gentle nudge from Emma's shoulder to let it slide quietly open. The air inside was warm, a stark contrast to the chill from the corridors of the palace, and her breath hitched slightly as she noticed Regina by the fire. The brunette's face was the picture of serenity, eyes closed as her chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm. Emma felt as if she were more an intruder than ever and slowly began to back out of the door as quietly as possible.

"Stay." She heard from the older woman as she had begun to pull the door closed as best she could with her foot.

A glance up had revealed an unchanging picture, Regina's eyes still lightly closed, her breathing calm and even.

"I didn't mean to interrupt..." Emma began as she moved back fully in to the room, taking a measured step closer to the woman.

Eyelids opened as honey brown eyes lifted up to meet her own and she began to recognize that now familiar thud in her chest for what it truly might be.

"I brought lunch," she said by way of apology and was rewarded when she saw the ghost of a smile trace across the other woman's features.

With the flick of her wrist, Regina had cleared a space on the table before her and Emma moved over to place the tray down. Slipping her coat off she placed it on the coat rack that had been conveniently located near the door; the warmth in the room was such that the coat had become unnecessary. When she'd turned around to head back to the couch, she'd been taken aback by the brunette's steady gaze as her eyes had traced her body. There was a fire in her look, a hunger that left Emma weak at the knees and that feeling of familiarity with a hint of longing hit her once more. Smoothing down some of the wrinkles in her shirt she gave a quick shrug and a lopsided grin as those beautiful eyes the colour of a fine cognac reached hers once again, clearing of its earlier hunger.

"The clothes seem to fit you well, dear," Regina said, tilting her head somewhat appraisingly. "I'm glad to see it."

Emma looked down at her clothes once more, marvelling at the fit. She had never been one to take compliments well and had felt a slight blush rising as she took a seat in the empty chair beside the couch. The silence hung in the air for only a moment before her stomach saw fit to growl once more in protest of food being so close and yet still remaining empty. A grin broke across her face as she shook her head.

"Best not to keep your stomach waiting, Miss Swan," Regina said as she reached out, taking a slice of apple from the tray.

And so Emma took a slice of spiced bread and ate it with relish, finding herself able to sate her physical hunger, but surprised to find it replaced with another kind of hunger altogether.

* * *

o

* * *

Belle paced slowly around the empty cabin. She'd awoken early again that morning to a cold bed and, as always, had refrained from venturing down the stairs until the sun had well and truly left the horizon behind. What she hadn't been expecting was for the house to be entirely empty and not a single clue as to where Rumpelstiltskin had gone. She'd searched high and low for a note, anything to let her know what had happened to him, but there was nothing to be found. A quick trip to the clearing nearest to their home had yielded no results either; beyond the clearing Rumpel could have gone in any direction along the roads - or with his magic, he could be anywhere within the realm itself.

And so Belle paced, wringing her hands with nervous energy as she debated if she were more worried at the moment, or more angry that he would leave without word. Even as her eyes glanced over the chipped cup upon the mantel, she knew she would forgive him once he returned, but it didn't stop the feeling of unease that rested in her chest. His skin had grown even more golden over the last few weeks, the irises of his eyes becoming so dark - if she were not so sure there was a man beneath all those layers she may well have felt a rising fear in the transformation she saw.

Her footsteps fell in the same pattern as she moved over the floorboards, the same dull thud resounding within the cabin walls with each fall of her foot. Every sound outside the house caused her to look through the window in the hopes it would herald the return of Rumpelstiltskin, but each glance revealed nothing new to her eyes. With a sigh she turned on her heel, intent on making another slow trip across the room. However, as her foot landed for the umpteenth time upon the wooden floorboards, the sound was not the dull thud she was accustomed to, but instead sounded hollow to her ears. With a puzzled look she lifted her foot, before slowly replacing it once more in the same spot next to the cabinet. Again it sounded hollow.

A part of her knew she should ignore this; write it off as simply an anomaly in the floorboards of which she should pay no heed. But another part of her felt the pull of curiosity, and ultimately it was that side of her that won.

Kneeling down she inspected the floorboard and noticed that if she pressed on it in just a certain spot nearest to the cabinet, the other end lifted ever so slightly, just enough for her to get a small finger hold on it. With a small wave of guilt, she lifted the floorboard and peered inside.

The darkness was absolute underneath the floorboards, the sparse light from the windows unable to penetrate far enough into the hole for her to get a look at what was inside. Instead, she chose to reach inside, surprised when her hand came quickly into contact with an object wrapped in an oilcloth. With mounting curiosity, she pulled the object out, unwrapping it with shaking fingers. Her gasp was audible when she saw the silver dagger imprinted with Rumpelstiltskin's name; until now it's very existence had been part myth and part legend, even to her. Rumpelstiltskin had never mentioned it to her and she had never thought to ask. But here, now, she held the dagger in her hand and she had the answer to a question she never knew she asked. Hurriedly she replaced the knife in its oilcloth wrapping, hiding it securely once more under the floorboards.

If legend were true, that knife tethered the dark curse to Rumpel - but the knowledge on how to separate the evil had been lost in the histories, even more myth than the existence of the dagger itself. But here was hope, a chance for her love to return to her whole - assuming he would allow it.

With a deep sigh she realized there was only one person other than Rumpelstiltskin she could ask, only one person in all the realms who might have any idea at all what could be done. And eliciting any help from her would be nigh impossible. _But_, she reasoned, _I have to try_.

Bringing herself back to her feet she looked around the cabin once again, not for the first time cursing the lack of mirrors in the house - although this time for entirely different reasons. Searching high and low for any semblance of a mirror, she found herself becoming more frustrated by the obvious care her beloved had gone to in order to keep the Queen out of this house. It was only as she was about to give up, staring out the window beside the front door, that she realized the answer had been there all along and she gave a short bark of laughter at her own foolishness.

Grabbing a dark cloth she opened the front door and went out, placing the dark cloth against the outside of the glass window and hooking it in to the wooden framework. Walking back inside she looked at her makeshift mirror and took a deep breath, hopefully near enough was good enough.

Eyes darting between the makeshift mirror and the pathway leading up to their house, Belle whispered one word to the mirror, a soft plea, a prayer on the wings of fairies.

"Regina."

* * *

o

* * *

"Boss, boss," came the wheezing voice of the hunched, impish creature limping through the room to her side. "Will it work, boss?"

She pushed him away when he was within reaching distance, his pale, watery eyes looking up at her with nothing but devotion. Her jaw clenched at the sound of his voice, grating on her ears as he spoke. Had she truly had her way, this creature would not be with her, would have remained in Oz where he belonged. But this is what had brought her to the Enchanted Forest in the first place, the fact that her life was not wholly her own to do with as she pleased. This thing beside her was proof positive of that.

"Will we get it, boss?"

Her usually calm composure slipped almost imperceptibly.

"Of course we will," she hissed, her eyes narrowing, "Snow White already trusts me and that fool of a husband will do anything she says." She reached across the table, adding some dried leaf to the mortar and pestle before her. If she could harness the power available in this realm, she would be able to conquer Oz, rule it under her own dominion and displace the Wizard once and for all. A faint smile ghosted across her lips at the thought.

The small man jumped, cackling gleefully before all traces of his humour fled and he turned those insipid eyes in her direction once more.

"And of the brat, boss?"

Elphaba's back stiffened at the mention of the child. She was not above hurting adults to get what she wanted, what she needed, but a child was something else altogether. He would need someone to guide him in the world when her plan came to fruition and who better than she to do such a thing? She would look like the saviour and he would be more than happy to return to Oz with her.

"Do not speak of him," she spat, "he is to remain unharmed. It is only the mother we need."

The pale man jumped in circles, dashing over the ground on hands and feet, only to land on his knees beside her once again, a grin playing across his features.

"The saviour's blood!" he chanted, clapping his hands.

She pursed her lips tightly before murmuring to herself, "the saviour's blood indeed." With a sharp kick, she pushed the impish man away from her once more, not once hearing the slight intake of breath from an alcove nearby, nor the softest of scraping sounds as a sliding wall was replaced.

* * *

o

* * *

Regina watched from her place on the couch as Emma slept nearby, sprawled out on her bed as if she owned it. Blonde hair fanning out across her back as she lay on her stomach, her breathing soft and measured. Under Regina's insistence, Emma had retired to the bed in this room, rather than going to her own, when eyes, sleepy with exhaustion turned in her direction and a soft voice made mention of tiredness. Regina had wanted to keep Emma nearby, seeing her calm body sleeping a tangible reminder of how things were different here, how _she_ was different here.

There was still much research to be done, but no matter how hard Regina tried to concentrate, she found that after nearly an hour her finger still marked the same paragraph on the same page she had first started. Her entire being had been consumed with watching Emma sleep, the peacefulness that had descended upon the blonde almost as soon as her head had hit the pillow. It had been so long since Regina had seen this serenity, she found herself helpless to do anything but gaze in awe.

_She had been sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard for the better part of an hour, going through the last bits of paperwork for the day that she had brought home from the office. It was late, the clock on bedside table telling her that midnight had already been and gone some time earlier._

_As she gazed down to her right, she saw the peaceful features of the Sherriff beside her, eyes lightly closed as her breathing came out steady. The soft glow of the lamp gave the woman beside her an almost ethereal glow, and not for the first time Regina's breath had caught in her throat. With a reverence she did not know she possessed, she gently brushed soft, blonde hair away from the side of Emma's face, tucking it lightly behind her ear._

_The movement, no matter how gentle she had tried to be, had woken the blonde; unfocused emerald green eyes squinting in the light up towards her._

_"Sleep time, Regina," Emma murmured, voice thick with sleep as an arm that seemed devoid of all motor skills had been thrown haphazardly across her stomach. It took her a moment to realize it was searching for the switch on the lamp on the far side of her, but was failing miserably in being able to reach it. It was only a small hesitation before Regina put her paperwork on the table beside the bed and flicked the lamp off, slipping further down between the covers._

_"That's better," Emma had mumbled, her arm still strewn across Regina's waist._

_Regina had begun to draw lazy lines over the smooth skin on the arm across her stomach, a moment of peace descending upon her as sleep finally took its hold._

_It was a few hours later when she had woken up. Emma's breasts and stomach were pressed tightly against her back, an arm wrapped possessively around her waist, breath hot against the back of her neck; and it was in that moment Regina felt she might finally be on the verge of getting her own happy ending._

She closed the book on her lap with a sigh of resignation, placing it back on the table next to her. It would be virtually impossible for her to continue doing any more research with Emma asleep in the room, her presence a reminder of the better times in Storybrooke. Standing up, Regina resolutely made the decision to lie next to Emma, the prospect of further research on the wards all but dismissed.

As she made her way over to the bed, she felt a faint stirring in the innate magic she held within her - a soft prickling at the base of her neck that she hadn't felt in quite some time.

With a frown, she turned her head slowly left and right, trying to pinpoint the magic ripple that had washed over her; her brow furrowed in concentration. It was like lightning when recognition finally dawned on her, a heated impulse to throw up as many shields as she could, to wake the woman on the bed and alert her to the possibility of a trap closing around them. The thought, however, was soon discarded.

The voice she heard was soft and pleading, accented in such a way that was not common to this part of the Enchanted Forest; it did not appear immediately threatening. With a half a dozen purposeful strides, Regina was at her mirror, clearing the whirl of smoke it displayed and watched without detection. It was when she confirmed the owner of the voice was well and truly alone that she allowed the mirror to reflect her as well and found herself only mildly amused at the small gasp it elicited from the other woman. With a hint of questioning, she uttered a single word.

"Belle."


End file.
